Black Rose
by Sapphira T
Summary: When Gibbs witnesses a 16 girl take down an armed would be robber in a coffee shop with only her messenger bag, he can't say he isn't intrigued. But while taking the girl home rather than let the EMT's take her, he gets a call he can't ignore and has to take the girl with him to a crime scene. Will she help him solve the case? And who really is this Kiley Reid?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Sapphire here. So, I just wanted to let you know, this is a re-edited version of a story I wrote a while ago. That one had too many split ends and not enough storyline, so I deleted it. I apologize if you liked it, and if you did, just message me and I'll send you the original copy.**

 **But this one, hopefully, will be better than the last one, and will include more of the Criminal Minds and NCIS characters where the last one was sorely lacking.**

 **So, anyway! I don't own either Criminal Minds or NCIS, sadly. And enjoy the story!**

 **ST**

Kiley's POV:

I walked down the street with my head bent over my book. It was a copy of 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea', I had read it a million times, but it was one of the books I remember my mother reading to me before my dad took me away from she and my brother, Spencer.

My name was Kiley Reid. I looked a lot like my older brother. I had soft, curly brown hair, big brown eyes, pale skin, and a lanky physique. My legs were long and so were my arms, and no matter how much I ate, I always looked like a scarecrow.

I was 16 years old and already graduating from college. The only reason that I hadn't done so before was because my dad refused to let me out of his sight. But, apparently, his opinion had changed. He had just kicked me out of the house, and he refused to go into full details as to why.

He had called my older brother, who had been fighting for custody of me for a long time, and told him that he could have me. I was fine with it.

I didn't really have much, and all that I did have was in a hotel until Spencer could get here.

I lived in D.C., Maryland. And I loved it here. I loved the cool air, the sights, the numerous bookstores, and the many coffee shops. If I was honest, I would be sad to leave it. But, I was happy to finally be able to see my brother more than once a year. And, I could get into a different college to finish up my majors, Forensic Science and Psychology. I had a few other PhD's too, like Criminology and Biochemistry, and a few minors in medical science. I loved learning, and I loved reading. I wanted to be like Spencer and be an FBI agent when I got older, but I also wanted to be a forensic scientist and an author. I suppose that I still had a few years to decide.

I walked into a coffee shop and put my book carefully into the brown messenger bag hanging at my side. I had a bit of money since I actually had a good paying job at a bookstore a few blocks away, thankfully, so I was able to buy what I wanted.

Like my clothes.

I wore ripped jeans, black converse, a blue shirt, various leather bracelets, a soft blue hoodie that was way too big for me, and a sapphire pendant that Spencer had sent me for my birthday.

I got in line behind an older guy with a sharp suit and slightly salt and pepper hair. The way his shoulders were poised, and the way he stood, I'd say he was a veteran. A 'no nonsense' kind of guy.

When he got to the front of the line, the lady at the counter just nodded and waved to one of the other employees, who immediately started getting his drink ready. So he was a regular. I just ducked into here because it had started to rain outside and I wanted coffee and something for breakfast.

I walked up to the counter as the man walked away to wait for his order and cleared my throat.

I smiled at the lady behind the counter, who returned it happily, and said, "Um, I'll have the double chocolate chip frappe please. And a chocolate muffin."

The girl nodded and rang it up. I paid her and waited at a table.

The man I had been behind was sitting a few tables from me, and he was looking out the window with disinterest. His eyes were icy blue, and extremely calculating.

He swiveled his head towards me as though he knew I was staring, but I didn't flinch under his unblinking gaze. I just lifted my chin slightly, refusing to back down. He probably had an alpha male personality.

After several tense seconds of keeping his cool gaze, the lady at the counter called out to him, holding his coffee. And mine was soon after.

We both stood and walked to the counter. I got there first and picked up my order with a smile, then began to walk out. But as I was walking out, my footsteps faltered. There was a man in line, and he was setting off all sorts of alarms in my head.

He was smiling at everyone in a 'too cheerful' attitude, and his hand kept ghosting to his hip. I narrowed my eyes and saw a lump protruding from his jacket. From the shape and size, I'd guess it was a 9mm glock handgun.

I know that you are entitled to bear arms, but in a coffee shop?

He didn't look like a detective, and he didn't have a badge on him. I thought the whole thing with a firearm is you have to have your badge on with it, or neither at all.

I didn't have time to rule it out, because as soon as he saw me staring, his smile faded and his hand went to the glock.

He yanked it out and pointed it straight at me, then shouted, "Alright everyone! Listen up!" As people looked at him, there were a few screams as they saw the gun, but he just kept talking.

"This is how it's going to go. You're going to give me all your cash, and any other valuable trinkets, and I'm not going to shoot all of you. Starting with you." He flicked the barrel at me.

My heart was pounding out of my chest, but I knew I had to do something. There were so many people in this café with me, so many of us, and just one of him. I had to do something. Everyone else wouldn't, couldn't, do anything, I was close enough. I could. And if I didn't, someone might get hurt.

So, before I could change my mind, I dropped my order, swung my messenger bag up to protect my torso, and charged at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Sapphire again. Now, for this chapter, I'm well aware that people can't just tag along to crime scenes. But, this is fiction, so I'm going to pretend that you can. I will have Vance in later to discuss the whole thing, but for now, I know that it shouldn't be allowed.**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

 **ST**

Kiley's POV:

I hit the man's hand with my bag and sent the glock flying. Once I did that though, I realized that I had no clue what to do next, and he was starting to swing at me.

I tried to move out of the way, but his hand still caught my cheekbone. And, because he had a stupid ring on, I could feel it cutting the skin on my protruding cheekbone.

I cried out, but swung my bag again. It hit his face and sent him flying.

By that time, the veteran was next to me; and apparently, he had a gun too!

But he cried out, "NCIS! Don't move." So I relaxed.

The man was lying on the ground in a daze, holding his jaw. When he saw the veteran, he glared up at me, but held up his hands.

NCIS

I waved away the EMT's who were dabbing at my cheekbone, "I'm fine. Really. It just stings. But I'm ok." I insisted for the third time.

They gave me doubtful looks, but let me go.

The moment I got away from them, I nearly ran straight into the NCIS agent. He was holding a pastry bag and two coffees. He stared me down for a few seconds, then inclined his head towards me, and walked away.

After a moment's hesitation, I followed him.

I followed him out of the coffee shop while putting the strap of the messenger bag around my shoulder again. He led me to a black charger and got into the driver's seat.

When I didn't follow him inside, he leaned over and flung open the passenger seat and looked up at me expectantly.

I hesitated at the door and said, "I'm not supposed to get into cars with strangers." With a serious expression bordering on sly.

His lips twitched and I got the impression he was fighting back a smile.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs." He replied simply, as if to say 'There, now I'm not a stranger.'

I sighed, and against my better judgment, swung into the car with him.

He waited until I shut the door before tossing the pastry bag into my lap and handing me one of the coffee cups. Based on the smell, he had just given me a chocolate chip frappe. Just like the one I had dropped.

On a hunch, I opened the bag to see a chocolate muffin sitting there.

I looked up at him in surprise, but he wasn't looking at me. His gaze was focused on the screaming man being escorted to a police cruiser. I felt a flush of pride as I saw his purple jaw, I guess I hit him hard enough.

Leroy looked at me then, and raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged, "I played little league for a bit when I was younger. I always loved baseball, even if I wasn't all that athletic. I'm still not. Pathetically so. And if you are staring at me like in your own weird way of asking why I attacked him, someone had to. If I didn't then you probably would've, but how would I know? All that I knew was that I was surrounded by innocent people and I had to do something. I was close enough, I had a heavy book in my bag that could probably do some damage, and I knew what to do. Moderately. Does that satisfy you?"

He nodded and started the car. He pulled out of the coffee shop and I asked, "Where are you taking me? You know kidnapping is a crime."

His lips twitched again before he replied, "I wanted to know who you are. And besides, I told the EMT's that I was your relative. They made me swear to bring you back home just in case you had a concussion. It was that, or you got to go to the hospital to be treated for shock."

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, and I made sure he saw me roll my eyes. His lips rose slightly, but soon went back to a straight line.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of coffee.

His phone began to ring and he put it up to his ear with a short, "Gibbs." Whatever he heard made him jerk his car into another lane and speed up.

I yelped and held tighter to my coffee. My priorities were sure in the right place…

He hung up his phone and said, "I have a case, and I can't stop to drop you off."

I shrugged, "I don't have anything else to do. And I doubt you can go backwards to drop me off at my hotel."

He jerked the car into another lane again and asked, "So, you aren't local?"

I tilted my head, "Yes and no. I mean, I was born in Las Vegas. But my dad took me away from my mother and brought me here. I've been going to college for a while now, but my dad has decided that he doesn't want me anymore. So, he called my brother, who lives in Virginia, and said he can have me after years of trying. Now I'm just waiting for my brother to get here."

I saw Leroy's hand tighten on the steering wheel and his coffee at my words.

"Did your dad have a good reason?" He asked with a careless air.

I shrugged again, "He didn't say. But I'm sure it was the issue where his own daughter was smarter than him and he had no clue what to do with me. He married again, so he probably thought he'd be better off raising my half siblings rather than a genius. That's why he left my brother. He had no clue what to do with a genius."

Leroy looked at me again, taking his eyes completely off the road, and smirked, "You're a genius?"

I grinned slyly back, "I guess you could say that. My brother is better though. I graduated highschool at the age of 13. Since then I have gotten two PhD's in Criminology and Biochemistry, two bachelors in foreign language and medical science, and I'm still working on getting forensic science and psychology degrees. I like learning, and I've always loved reading and studying things. But, like I said, my brother is better at it than me. He's an FBI agent."

Leroy snorted, "Oh, he's one of those monkeys?"

I snickered, apparently surprising him due to the fact that his eyebrow raised, and replied, "Maybe. I don't really know. I mean, he isn't a monkey to me, or at least in that sense, but…" I shrugged again.

Leroy smirked at me, then shook his head. "Still, you've got an impressive record. You still haven't told me your name."

I started slightly, I had completely forgotten about that. "Kiley Reid." I said with a small grin.


	3. Chapter 3

Kiley's POV:

Leroy stopped in a suburban area and looked at me, "You can stay in the car if you want." Then got out of the car without another word.

I sighed, slightly annoyed. First he dragged me off, then he drove to an area in D.C. that I've never been before, then he expects the curious teenager to stay in the car. Wonderful.

No way. I opened the door and got out with my coffee still in my hand.

I walked after my silent companion and fell into step next to him. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye with a questioning glance.

I shrugged and took a sip of coffee, "Do you really expect me to stay put? Maybe I can help. I do have a degree. Besides, I was supposed to find someone to tag along with for my forensic science class. You already kidnapped me. Prepare yourself for the consequences."

He smirked lightly and swung on an NCIS jacket. He pulled up the yellow tape and allowed me to step under it before following me. He steered me over to a big vehicle with NCIS on the side and walked to the back that was situated halfway in a forested area.

When we got there, an old man looked up at him and greeted him with a cheerful, "Ah! Jethro! Here at last." He was kneeling next to the crumpled body of a man who was wearing jogging clothing.

He looked up and froze when he saw me, but Leroy just waved him on, "She's with me. What'd you got, Ducky?"

'Ducky' nodded and continued, "Well, the poor fellows name is David Jackson. He was a Navy Lieutenant on shore leave. Single bullet wound to his abdomen, but what is peculiar is that he has no heart."

Ducky rolled the Lieutenant over and I grimaced at the amount of blood coating his front. There was an incision through the Lieutenant's shirt, right over where his heart should be, and that seemed to be the source of most of the blood.

Ducky was watching me carefully, waiting for my reaction, so I nodded to him and kneeled down in front of the body. I was careful not to touch the body as I pointed to the man's knees, "Was that caused by falling once the bullet hit him, or something else? It looks like there is pieces of a pinecone in his right knee, and there are none here."

Ducky nodded and noted, "That is correct." He looked up at Leroy and said, "Jethro, I have sent Anthony and Timothy into the forest to try and find any signs of struggle further in. Ziva is questioning the poor girl who found our young Lieutenant."

A young man with glasses exited the van then, carrying a black bag. He paused when he saw me and looked nervously between Ducky and Leroy. "Uh. Hi. Uh. Gibbs. How are you today?" He asked anxiously.

 _Gibbs._ That sounded much better than Leroy.

Gibbs nodded towards the man and Ducky sighed. "Mr. Palmer, could you get our young friend some gloves and perhaps a jacket? I think that there is a spare that should fit her in there. She seems to be here to stay for a bit." Ducky looked up at Gibbs for confirmation and in return, Gibbs nodded.

Mr. Palmer nodded again and vanished into the van.

Gibbs' hand rested on my shoulder and he gave me a questioning look. I waved him off, "I'm fine. It's not like I haven't seen blood before. I do have a criminology degree and am a forensic major. Granted, most of the dead bodies I've seen have been frogs, but still. I'm alright. Go interview someone or something. I'll explain everything to… Ducky."

Ducky nodded to me with a warm look on his face, then Gibbs nodded and walked off.


	4. Chapter 4

Once Gibbs left, Ducky fixed me with a stare. "What is your name then? And how did you come to meet our esteemed leader?"

I grinned at him, "My name is Kiley." He gave me a look, so with a heavy sigh I continued, "Kiley Rosaline Reid. I met Gibbs this morning at a coffee shop when I took down an attempted robber with a gun."

I said it carelessly, but judging from the reaction Ducky gave me, I might've said it a little too carelessly.

"And how did you come to do that?" He asked with a bemused tone.

I grinned at him slyly and replied, "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea." Then patted my messenger bag.

Ducky chuckled lightly and shook his finger at me, "And who said words can't hurt?"

I grinned at him, throwing my hands up in surrender.

Then Ducky continued, "How is it that you tagged along to our crime scene?"

I shrugged and said, "Well, Gibbs was going to take me back to my hotel before the EMT's dragged me off to the hospital to check if I had any extensive damage when he got a call saying that he had a dead body," I gestured to the corpse in front of me, "And said he didn't have time to drop me off. Besides, I had to figure out something for my Forensic Science class assignment. I have to either shadow a forensic scientist or figure something else out. I'm fairly certain though, that if I turn in a report saying that I actually managed to get onto an NCIS crime scene and not mucked anything up, that I'll get an A on my term paper."

Ducky just shook his head, "Gibbs may have to fight the Director on that regard. But, for now, I would appreciate the help. And perhaps I could extend my hand to you in return? Tell me what else you see on our poor friend."

I bit my lip and looked at the Lieutenant. He had bruises on his knuckles, which indicated he may have fought back. But he also had cuts on his fingertips, which might prove my theory that he had fallen in the trees and yanked himself back up again. That was either him being clumsy or running away from his attacker.

I doubted the former, he didn't look like a clumsy person. I was extremely clumsy, so I had a pretty good guess that clumsiness was narrowed down to someone with long legs or someone still growing. The Lieutenant was tall, but his build wasn't gangly, and he certainly wasn't still going through his growing phase. He looked to be in his early thirties or late twenties. Definitely not that.

Still, he was a strong looking man, so it would be doubtful that he'd run away. But if he was scared, any man or woman would run. Flight or fight instincts varied from person to person.

I looked up at Ducky, "Do you know when he was shot?" At Ducky's silence I continued, "His knees are scraped in a manner that says he didn't just fall to his knees when he was shot, he fell forward. That indicates that he was either walking or running forward when his knees hit the ground. Judging from his fingertips, he dragged himself up off the ground. Normally, when someone falls, especially someone with his body shape, they can pick themselves up by simply pressing the flat of their hand on the ground and pushing themselves up. Like they were exercising. So he might have dragged himself up after he was shot.

"The bullet entered through his back, so I think that he was running when he was shot in the back with the bullet. He fell to the ground, then dragged himself back to his feet and turned on his attacker. Based on the bruises on his knuckles, he fought back with vigor, and apparently, according to the bruises on his face and arms, his attacker hit back instead of shooting him again.

"It's unlikely that a man who had just been shot in the abdomen could fight well for a long period of time, so, maybe the Lieutenant knocked his attacker down, then tried to run away. He made it this far before falling. Going on the amount of blood originating from his chest, he was alive when his attacker started to cut his heart out."

I paused, shuttering slightly. Not the best way to go.

"There are a few other factors to consider, but I can't form theories without knowing all the information. But, this is what I think happened. I'm guessing that you already know most, if not all of this. And am I talking to fast again?"

The words rolled of my tongue with speed and ease, but it wasn't always the easiest to understand me when I began talking that fast. Spencer had no problem. But he was Spencer. And he talked just as fast.

I looked up though, to find Ducky beaming at me, and Mr. Palmer staring at me with his arms full of a jacket and his mouth hanging open.

I blushed at the looks and fidgeted. I never really liked being the center of attention, but was a lot better now than when I was a kid. Ducky's hand came up to my shoulder and he patted it, "Well done my dear. I agree with you on your thoughts. It is likely that his attacker shot him whilst the man was running, and he drug himself out of the forest ground using his fingertips. His right hand is covered in blood, so it's likely that when he fell, he pushed a hand to his wound. I'll know more once we get him back, and then Abigail can tell us what kind of gun was used."

Mr. Palmer handed me the NCIS jacket and pair of gloves with a small smile and held out his gloved hand, "My name is James Palmer. But my friends call me Jimmy."

I shook his hand with a smile, "Pleasure to meet you, Jimmy. My name is Kiley Reid, my brother calls me Kiles though."

He nodded to me and began helping Ducky move the body into a body bag. I put on the gloves and took off my bag, I looked around for a place to put it before startling.

Gibbs was less than a foot behind me, smirking at me. He held out his hand for the bag and I gave it to him with shaking hands.

He walked off towards his car as I slung the NCIS jacket over my hoodie. It fended off most of the early morning chill and I smiled happily at the sudden warm.

I helped Jimmy and Ducky pick the body up and transport it into the van.

Then, when I turned around to offer help again, Gibbs was behind me.

I yelped this time and clapped a hand over my mouth. Gibbs' eyes lit up with humor though his face remained impassive.

Through clenched teeth I hissed, "I'm going to get you a bell!"

His lips twitched, then he held out a camera. "You said that you would help, so, take some photos."

I scowled at him, but took the camera.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Sapphire again! So, recently, someone reviewed this story and said that it was really good and to take it and run. I love hearing from you guys, even more so when you say you like what I'm writing. If there wasn't any you, there wouldn't be any me. So I want to say thank you, and to not hesitate to talk to me. I love the chatter and love hearing from you. So, if you like this story, leave me a review. I make it a point to reply to all of them, so don't worry about me not seeing it.**

 **Also, I realize that I haven't explained something. Until Spencer and Kiley's mother was institutionalized, their dad allowed Kiley to spend her summers with Spencer and her mom. So Spencer still got to see Kiley more than a few days out of the year.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story. Cheers!**

 **ST**

Kiley's POV:

I walked along the faint blood trail leading into the woods. Behind me, I vaguely heard two men talking with Gibbs. One of them was referred to as 'Dinozo' and the other was 'McGee'. And Gibbs was saying that I was with him, and to not bother me.

Then I heard him instruct one of them, I think McGee, to watch me and make sure I didn't cause trouble. I heard a snicker, then a smack, and a squeak, "Yes Boss!" and then running.

I heard twigs snap behind me and lifted my head to see one of the men, the one with light brown hair, behind me. I nodded to him and said, "Hello. My name is Kiley Reid."

He smiled at me and nodded back, "Tim McGee. Nice to meet you."

I shot him a grin and kept following the trail. After a few minutes, McGee spoke up again, "What are you following? I can't see anything."

I kneeled and pointed to a bit of darkened earth, "See that? It's too dark to be water, and the rest of the ground is lighter, so it isn't just dew. And besides, it's early April, there's frost everywhere else but here. That means that it's still moderately warm, and blood can sometimes stay warm enough to ward off frost. Seldom, but it can happen. And even now, some frost is on the blood, making it brighter and more noticeable red. But, due to the recent snowmelt, there are leaves everywhere, so I don't blame you for not seeing it. I can only see it because I've been following it for a while."

I heard him make a slight noise of agreement, so I stood up again and started walking.

It wouldn't be very likely that the man got very far. Even a Navy man has his limits when bleeding from a bullet hole, but I wasn't looking to see how far he went, I was looking for the bullet.

Ducky had said that no one had found it at that point while we lifted the body, which meant it should still be out here. There was an exit wound on the Lieutenant, so, if I could find the bullet, maybe their forensic scientist could find the gun, and in turn, find the killer.

After a bit, McGee moved to the opposite side of the blood trail and began following it instead of me. I fought back a smirk and kept walking.

Another few paces, we found the source puddle for the blood. As McGee began snapping pictures, I began looking around for the bullet.

First I looked at the ground near where the puddle was, but soon started to lose hope. I scowled and leaned on a tree to catch my breath.

When I did though, I felt something different underneath my fingers. Suddenly thankful I kept the gloves on, I whirled to face the tree. There, splintered into the wood, was a bullet.

"McGee!" I called out and took a few pictures of the bullet.

McGee was soon next to me and he clapped me on the back before beginning to dig through his bag for an evidence bag and tweezers.

I held the evidence bag as he carefully dislodged the bullet from the tree. When he dropped the bullet into the evidence bag, he smiled at me, "Good job, Reid."

I returned the grin and we began walking back to the crime scene.

NCIS

When we got back, Gibbs was waiting for us, still sipping his coffee and holding mine. I had forgotten that I put it down. Oops.

He held it out to me and in return, I pressed the evidence bag into his hand with a giddy smile. "We found the bullet, Gibbs." I declared as I took a sip of the beloved frappe.

His eyes twinkled slightly with humor before becoming serious again. He handed the bag to Ducky, who put it into his van before returning.

He looked between Gibbs and I and asked, "Is Rosaline going to be joining us?"

Did he just call me Rosaline? Wow.

Gibbs dipped his head and gave me a questioning glance, I shrugged and said, "I don't have anything else to do. So I'm game. If, of course, you guys don't mind a 16 year old tagging along."

McGee's mouth fell open, and so did Jimmy's. Ducky, on the other hand, beamed at me and clapped me on the shoulder, "Splendid! I'll be seeing you soon then, Rosaline."

I couldn't help but laugh at the man before nodding, "Indeed, Ducky." I said seriously, earning me a chuckle and another pat before he walked to the van. Followed closely by Jimmy.

Soon, they were gone, and I was left with Gibbs and McGee. The latter of which, spluttered and cried, "You're 16! But… You…."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at him, "Yes McGee. She's in college. She claims she's a genius."

I huffed and rolled my eyes, "Claim has nothing to do with it. I was told that I was a genius when I was 9, I got it tested when I was 10, and certified soon after. So, I'm not a claimed genius, I'm a certified genius." I informed him with mock arrogance.

Gibbs just cuffed me lightly on the back of the head and walked off towards two people. One guy and one girl. I think the guy was the Dinozo that Gibbs was talking to earlier. The other must have been Ziva, who Ducky mentioned.

McGee turned to me and narrowed his eyes, "Are you really 16?"

I nodded and looked down, "Yes. I really am. I have PhD's in Biochemistry and Criminology, bachelors in foreign language and medical science, and am working on my Forensic Science and Psychology degrees. My brother is better than me though."

I chanced a look back up to see McGee smiling at me, "You know, a lot of people don't believe me when I said I was a young genius either. My dad didn't know what to do with me."

I grinned at him and shrugged, "Mine either. He left my brother and my mom because he didn't know how to deal with a genius child. My brain made itself known when I was 9, Spencer was always one, even when he was a little kid. Or at least, that's what my mom says. Spencer is 7 years older than me. When he was 8, my dad took me away and moved here. But, apparently, he can't deal with a genius anymore either. Because he just told my brother to come and get me while kicking me out of the house."

Again, it was said carelessly, and I wasn't sure why I was telling him at all. Maybe it was because I suspected that Gibbs might tell him if I didn't.

McGee just looked at me for a moment, and an awkward silence descended.

I shook my head and grinned at him, "But oh well. I've got my brother, so I'm fine. Anyway, do you play chess?"

I saw the relief in his eyes as I offered him an out from the awkwardness and he gladly took it. Soon we were talking about League of Legends, Call of Duty, and other roll playing games.

When Dinozo walked over to us, he looked between the two of us and sighed. "Oh no. McGeekerson has found himself a little friend."

McGee scowled at him, but Dinozo ignored him and held out his hand to me. "Anthony Dinozo. That's: Big D, little i, big N, little o, double z, and another o."

I smirked at him and shook his head, "Kiley Reid. That's: Big R, little e, little i, and little d."

He looked surprised for a fraction of a second, then grinned and declared, "I like her!" To McGee; who rolled his eyes in return.

At that moment, the girl walked over with Gibbs. Seeing me, she nodded to me and informed me with a serious tone, "I am Ziva David. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Fighting off the smile, I replied equally as serious, "Kiley Reid. The pleasure is all mine."

Ziva looked me from head to toe, then nodded, as though satisfied with what she saw. Interesting.

Gibbs nodded to me and barked, "Well? Let's go! We've got everything we need here." Then he walked away without another word.

I began to follow him, but DiNozzo grabbed my arm, "Hey boss! We're kidnapping Reid here, we'll see you back." Then he shoved McGee towards Gibbs and made a motion with his hand.

McGee rolled his eyes, but followed Gibbs.

I was now alone with Ziva and Anthony. The former of which was now looking at me with interest clear on her face.

"Gibbs said that you took down an armed attacker. Yes?" She asked smoothly as she began to walk to another car.

I fell into step beside her and nodded, "Yes. I don't think it is that big a deal."

Ziva rolled her eyes, and before I could see what she was doing, she was now facing me, holding my jaw in her hand. She stared intently at the mark on my cheekbone and clicked her tongue, "That will bruise unless you put something on it."

Then released me like she hadn't just scared me half to death. Anthony gave me a knowing smirk and got into the passenger seat. I gulped and climbed into the back seat. What did I get myself into?


	6. Chapter 6

Kiley's POV:

I exited the car with shaking legs. If I thought that Gibbs was crazy in his driving, he had nothing compared to Ziva. Tony, as he had insisted I call him, shared my sentiments. And, though it was entertaining to watch him stagger out of the car, I didn't laugh at him due to the fact that I wasn't much better. I just hid it better than he did.

Ziva smiled at me before inclining her head, indicating that I should walk with her. During the ride, while I was trying not to fly out the window, she and I had had discussion about fighting. I wanted to get better at it, only studying the styles myself, and Ziva was more than happy to teach me.

Meanwhile, Tony kept muttering "Ninja." Under his breath.

As for him, I got the movie references that he made, and added a few of my own. I had always loved classic movies. In my mother's brief periods of lucidity, we would watch classic movies or she would read to Spencer and I. I loved it either way. So I knew a lot of the movies that Tony was talking about. I didn't know some of them though, and Tony had promised a movie night in the future. Saying that he drag Ziva and 'McVulcan' along too.

He had just stared at me incredulity as I offered him a 'long live and prosper'.

I followed Ziva into the NCIS headquarters with Tony not far behind me.

We walked to an elevator and Ziva paused to give a retinal scan before the door opened. We all got into the elevator and Tony chattered away about a James Bond movie.

In return, I offered him my best Sean Connery voice, it must have sounded odd coming from a girl, "Tell me, what lunatics asylum did they get you out of?" And Tony burst into laughter.

Ziva merely raised an eyebrow at me, and shook her head.

That made me grin wider, and Tony erupt in more laughter.

When the elevator doors dinged open, Tony was still laughing. But all the laughter stopped when we saw Gibbs in front of us, with an eyebrow raised in silent question.

Tony's laughter abruptly stopped, turning into a cough, then he sped out of the elevator with Ziva on his heels. I started to follow them, only to have Gibbs' hand stop me. He gestured jerked his head to a stairwell, then began walking towards it.

With a muffled sigh, I followed him, tossing my empty coffee cup into a trash can as I passed.

I walked up the stairs in step with Gibbs. I may not have been terribly athletic, but I was a fast runner, and had a lot of stamina. Thankfully. Otherwise, I would be out of breath attempting to keep up with Gibbs' clipped pace.

NCIS

We stopped in front of two double doors and Gibbs looked at me steadily, a silent question as to if I was alright with this.

Sure, why wouldn't I be okay with meeting the director of a government agency? No pressure or anything.

I took a deep breath, then nodded to Gibbs. He nodded once, then threw the doors open and stepped inside. I followed behind him closely, with no clue how to act.

I decided to take my cues from Gibbs and stood next to him in front of a desk. I fought to keep my hands still; but despite my efforts, they twitched and began to tap against my leg. My brother was slightly autistic, and I was no different. I drew in the air sometimes, but, more often than not, I would play piano in the air. Piano music had always calmed me. Piano and Violin. I could play both, and actually had a violin. But it was tucked safely back at the hotel.

I took a deep breath and gazed steely at the man in front of me. He was currently appraising me with an unblinking gaze that was both calculating and irritable calm. My fingers twitched again before he nodded, apparently approving of whatever he saw. Then he spoke in a voice that matched his gaze.

"Hello, Miss Reid. Gibbs tells me you've had quite the exciting morning." He said simply.

Not sure of what to do, I just nodded and replied, "Yes sir."

His lips twitched, but he continued to stare me down. "He also tells me that you are a college student at the age of 16, and studying numerous fields. You are in need of a shadowing project, aren't you?"

I nodded again, desperately trying to concentrate on not allowing my fingers to move and still appear calm.

"Well, though it is extremely uncommon for a college student to join us on investigations. You are a special case. I've managed to find out which college you are attending and confirming that you will be shadowing Gibbs and his team. I'm aware that you have a criminology degree, as well as a medical, but are you prepared to be on this case?"

My heart was pounding out of my chest and I was certain he could hear it. But he had just offered me a really, really important chance. And I really couldn't pass it up.

So I nodded and chose my words carefully, "Yes sir. I'm prepared for this case, and whatever it bring. I want to help Gibbs and his team in any way that I can, and hopefully get an A on my term paper." I added with a small smirk.

Gibbs was acting calm, confident bordered on arrogant, and with a neutral expression on his face. So I tried to portray that I was calm, that I was bordering arrogance, and that I wasn't scared out of my mind because of the man in front of me.

The man's lips twitched again, and he stood up from his desk, extending his hand towards me, "Leon Vance. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Reid."

I took his hand and shook it. "Pleasure it all mine, sir. You already know my name so there is no need to remind you of it." Again, I threw out a sly smirk.

His lips raised in what could be viewed as a smile and he nodded to me, before returning to a serious expression and turning to Gibbs.

"I know that you won't like this, but the FBI is coming down. They are offering to participate in a joint case. Apparently, our dead marine isn't the only victim of the murderer. He is the 10th in three months. And he is the only one to be killed out in the open. All the other victims were kidnapped; they were missing for 3 days, then they showed up in a painfully obvious area with their hearts missing and various wounds throughout their body."

Director Vance narrowed his eyes at Gibbs, "I expect you and your team to work with these FBI agents. I'm assured that they are very good at their jobs, and we need to give them our full cooperation. Understood?"

I saw the miniscule detail of Gibbs' jaw locking briefly, before he dipped his head, turned on his heel, and began walking out.

I hastened to follow him and heard Director Vance mutter under his breath, "Catch him before he kills again, Gibbs." Then the door closed.


	7. Chapter 7

When Gibbs walked down the stairs, he left me with Tony, McGee, and Ziva, then vanished into the elevator.

I stood in the center of the bullpen in confusion for a bit until McGee took pity on me, and gestured to a chair, motioning for me to bring it next to him. I did as he asked and he began showing me what he was doing.

He was tracking down where the Lieutenant had been recently and who had he gotten in contact with. I helped him as much as I could, but without my own computer, I could do little to help.

After about 30 minutes of this, Gibbs returned, and he was holding a tray that held a coffee and a large, extremely large, Caff-Pow. In his other hand he held yet another coffee. I recognized the coffee on the tray as a chocolate frappe.

He inclined his head to me, then began to walk back to the elevator. I leapt to my feet, relieved to be able to do something, and ran after him.

NCIS

We entered into a lab. I was happily sipping my frappe that Gibbs had gotten me, but I nearly dropped in surprise as the _happiest goth_ I'd ever met jumped out from underneath a table with a gleeful, "Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!"

And she _pranced_ towards us with a wide grin. Her inky black hair was in pigtails and I could hear a 'clomp' 'clomp' 'clomp' as she walked towards us with either combat boots or platforms. Probably the latter.

She was wearing a lacy black skirt, black leggings, a black shirt with a skull on it, studded leather bracelets, skull earrings, and a black chain choker.

She happily took the Caff-Pow from Gibbs and appraised me as she slurped it.

"Who's this, Gibbs?" She chirped happily.

Gibbs smirked lightly and gestured to me, "This is Kiley Reid. She's a forensic student that is joining us. She needs to shadow someone for her forensics class, and already has permission to help us in any way she can."

Abby grinned at me cheerfully before whipping around and clomping back to the mess of computers on a table she had previously been underneath.

She set the Caff-Pow down and began typing. Gibbs moved to stand in front of a big screen that mirrored what was on Abby's computer.

I hesitantly inched my way over, freezing when Abby fixed me with a stare. Then she smiled and waved to the other computer, "Come on! You can help."

I smiled gratefully at her and moved to the other computer as she began explaining what was on the screen to Gibbs.

"The bullet that Ducky sent up with some samples from the woods is a Bereta M9 9mm."

I tilted my head, "But isn't that gun mostly an Italian gun?"

Abby sent me a grin and continued, "Normally, yes. But whoever shot our navy man, had an Italian gun. It shouldn't have been too hard to find, but when I analyzed the bullet, I couldn't get a match on a specific gun. To find out who owned the gun, I would have to get the gun itself."

Gibbs frowned, "So you got nothing."

Abby clicked her tongue, "I didn't say that Gibbs. I looked up the names of anyone who had purchased an Italian gun in the past 5 years, and managed to narrow the list down by searching for people who have been at the sites of the murder so graciously sent to me by the FBI. So, going on all the people who have been on the route, I've narrowed down the list to 7 suspects. All of which I sent to McGee.

"I also managed to figure out what kind of knife was used on the Lieutenants chest based on the width of the initial injury. Ducky found a stab wound on his shoulder, so I was able to get a match on it. It's a tag force speedster Tf 434. But, that is only a rough estimate. I lot of pocket knives can be the same width. But, fortunately for us, the knife apparently is starting to crack. Probably from excessive use, and Ducky was able to pull shards out from the Lieutenants chest. So as soon as my babies do their thing, I'll know for sure."

Gibbs kissed her on the forehead before stalking out of the lab, calling over his shoulder, "Kiley. You stay with Abby."

Abby's eyes lit up in pleasure, and she grinned at me widely. I returned it and soon found myself shoulder to shoulder with Abby, both of us typing away at the computers searching to narrow the leads down further while waiting for the FBI team to show.

NCIS

With nothing to do at the moment, Abby had decided that I need a makeover. And proceeded to drag me to a chair, force me to sit down, and proceeded to threaten that if I got up, she'd tie me down. At my pleaded request, she said that she wouldn't go complete goth on me, but I still needed something on my usually no makeup approach. I grudgingly agreed, if only to spare myself further torture.

This was, after all, the girl who slept in a coffin.

Abby was now armed with a pale base to match my pale skin, a light blush, purple lipstick, black mascara, and purple eyeshadow. She even had purple nail polish that I politely declined. Or, tried to. Abby still proceeded to paint my nails first, then dipped them in icy cold water. It surprised me by actually hardening the nail polish almost instantly, and gave it a shinier color.

She then attacked my face with vigor, and I closed my eyes to attempt to hide from the horror being placed on me.

Besides the occasional jumps when Abby surprised me by pressing something against my face, I stayed stock still, except the piano playing of my fingers.

After about 10 minutes of Abby attacking my face, she then started to play with my long brown hair. At first I was panicked that she might add black dye, even though I had thought about doing it before, but realized that she was combing it and arranging it in a slim braid that curled around my head like a crown. And because I had such thick hair, some of it still curled around my shoulders despite most of it being caught in a braid.

When she was done, she shoved a mirror in front of me with a gleeful, triumphant, smile.

I was taken aback at what I saw. The purple eyeshadow brought out the flecks of blue on my brown eyes, and the blush made my cheekbones seem higher than they already were, which was very high. The purple lipstick made my lips seem bigger and surprisingly attractive.

The black mascara and heavy eyeliner made my eyes bolder and showed off more calculation that the soft look I was accustomed to.

And my hair… With the half crown around the back of my head, and the rest of my hair billowing out around it, it made me look….. Older. And I kind of liked it.

I had never considered myself an attractive person, but I was second guessing my decision now.

I smiled at Abby and nodded to her, "Thanks, Abby."

She grinned proudly and skipped around, "No problem! You already looked pretty before, but now you'd stand out in a crowd!"

I nodded to her and gave her a smirk in return.

"Tomorrow, we'll get you some skirts and black shirts! I think I have a few more."

Before I could reply, Abby's phone beeped and she skipped over to it.

"Hey Ducky!" She chirped happily. I followed her and looked over her shoulder to see Ducky smiling grimly.

He was in an autoposy. Duh. He was the ME.

"Hello Abigail. I have found something else on the body you may want to see. Could you spare a few moments?"

Abby bit her lip and looked at her whirring machines and then looked at me.

"I can't, still running the knife slivers you sent me, but Kiley can." Abby looked at me and I nodded.

Ducky lit up and said, "Ah! You have Rosaline with you then?"

Abby shot me a look and I mouthed 'Middle name'. Abby nodded and Ducky continued, "Just send her down then. Mr. Palmer and I shall continue with the Lieutenant."

The call disconnected and Abby immediately began telling me where to go to get to the morgue. I was thankful for my photographic memory then, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to remember half of what Abby said.

She also said cheerfully, "When you get back, we can experiment with black lipstick!"

I really didn't want to do that, but I squared my shoulders and walked out of the lab, on my way to visit the corpse.


	8. Chapter 8

When I walked through the sliding glass doors, I was greeted with the smell of death. I wrinkled my nose but kept walking.

Ducky soon saw me and motioned me over to the body lying on the table in front of him.

"Ah! Rosaline, come here, would you? Mr. Palmer, if you would get the tweezers." Ducky said. He paused and looked at me funny. After a moment, I realized that he was staring at the makeup and hairdo.

"Abby." Was all I had to say before he nodded in understanding.

"Well, it looks lovely on you, my dear." Was all he said before turning back to the body.

Jimmy quickly got the tweezers as I neared the source of most of the smell.

When I got there, Ducky opened his mouth and I forced myself to look inside. I furrowed my brow though, because something was stuck at the back of his throat.

Jimmy reached inside with the tweezers and snagged whatever was in there, gently dislodging it. To my surprise, he pulled out a black rose bud. Barely even starting to bloom.

But it hadn't closed up, which was odd.

Wow. I just saw a _rose bud_ being pulled from someone's mouth, and the first thing I thought of was 'It's so weird that it hasn't closed yet.' Priorities. Mine are in the right place.

Ducky looked at me and shrugged, "I haven't the faintest idea as to why a rose was in the back of the poor fellow's throat. He either attempted to swallow it, or the killer forced it into his mouth. Either way, perhaps you and Abigail can find out. Mr. Palmer, please put that in an evidence bag so Rosaline can take it back to Abby."

Jimmy nodded and rushed off.

I bit my lip. Why a black rose? Black roses were symbols of death. So it may be that the killer was leaving an obvious message. But they were also symbols for dark beauty. That reason was mostly why goths loved them.

Black roses weren't common in the United States. It was almost impossible to find a true black rose. You can dye them black by dipping them in black colored water, or you can just simply dip the rose itself in black ink and wait for it to dry.

You could find natural black roses in Taiwan, but only certain times of year.

Other than that, black roses were normally maroon or dark red.

Jimmy held out the bag to me with a smile, "Here you go, Kiles." I nodded to him returning his smile, before turning to leave.

And running right into Gibbs' chest.

I yelped and leapt back in fright.

As before, I hissed, "Bell. You are going to get one if you keep doing that!"

Jimmy had apparently been startled by his sudden appearance as well. But Ducky just smiled kindly at me and began to explain all that he'd found to Gibbs. Including the black rose that was in my hand.

When Ducky was finished, Gibbs nodded before turning on his heel, calling out over his shoulder, "Good work, Duck. Come on, Reid."

I ran to catch up to him before the door to the elevator dinged closed.

NCIS

We took the rose to Abby, and the moment she saw it and heard where it had been, she was livid.

"Some jerk is making fun of the black rose! It's an awesome rose, and very rare to actually get. Yet here it is, stuffed in the back of someone's throat, like a freakin apple in a pig's mouth!"

While she was ranting, she was stalking around her lab, putting the rose in a machine carefully, checking on other machines, and typing something on a computer.

Gibbs just watched the meticulous carnage with a neutral expression, but I was getting more nervous watching her walk around with numerous pointy objects at her disposal and several things that could go 'boom' if Abby decided she wanted an explosion.

So I decided to intervene. "Uh, Abby, I don't think it's a true black rose. Someone dipped it in ink. Otherwise, the rose bud would have closed up already, instead of some of the petals being extended. Right?"

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say, because it made Abby madder, "Oh! So some jerk is just making them for fun!? Making fun of it even more!"

I subtly ducked behind Gibbs slightly as her ranting got louder. Gibbs just smirked at me before beginning to walk out. I followed him closely as Abby continued on her death rant, completely ignoring us as we stepped into the elevator and began to ascend.

I guess I should be thankful that she'd forgotten about black lipstick in her anger.

NCIS

When we stepped back into the bullpen, I realized with a start that it was almost dark. And people had begun to leave for the day.

I yawned too at the realization. It had been a long day, spent mostly running around and staying in the lab with Abby, but I was exhausted. And hungry. I hadn't eaten lunch. Instead opting to talk with Abby more.

Gibbs noticed and smirked slightly before sitting at his desk.

Ziva looked up as I followed him and motioned me to her desk. I dragged the chair I'd previously occupied over to her and sat down.

Ziva pulled open a drawer on her desk and pulled out a knife sheath, with a knife. An actual knife. I knew how to use one from the few times I'd actually had a knife before losing it to my half siblings, but I hadn't had one in years.

Especially not one like this.

It was about 7 inches long from the tip of the hilt to the tip of the blade, and the sheath was attached to a short black band that wouldn't fit around any normal person's waist.

Ziva held it out to me and I took it slowly. "What is this for?" I asked cautiously.

Ziva smiled at me and said, "You are joining this case, yes? So, you will need something to defend yourself with. This knife can be strapped around your calf, and is a concealed weapon. Just in case you get into danger and are not near one of us, you can use this to help yourself. Are you alright with that?"

I nodded slowly, "But are you sure you want me to have one of your knives?"

She grinned wolfishly at me, "Trust me, I have many more."

I let that drop, not really wanting to know much more.

Then Ziva looked up at Gibbs and called out, "Is it alright if I take, Kiles, down to the training area? She wished to know more about fighting, and I offered to teach her."

Gibbs looked up at me, then nodded. Ziva stood up and I followed, I admit, a little nervously.

As we walked away, Gibbs called, "Don't break her, Ziva. She still has a lot of work to do tomorrow."

Ziva threw a hand over her shoulder to confirm that she'd heard, then continued to the elevator with me on her heels.

Don't break her?

Uh oh.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys! I just wanted to say that, for this chapter, I don't really know all that much about knife throwing. I have a decent hand at knife throwing myself, but have never taught someone else. And I figured out everything on my own, without someone telling me the best and quickest way to learn. So I apologize if anything here is wrong.**

 **ST**

"Raise your elbow. Your arm needs to be straight when you release the knife. Your fingers will be pointing towards the target when the knife flies towards it. Don't release the knife too quickly or too late, otherwise it will ruin your aim." Ziva instructed as I struggled to get it right.

We were currently in an area that was clearly used for workouts. But Ziva had set up targets on sandbags, and no one else was around.

I took a deep breath and extended my arm, releasing the knife for the 11th time. It sailed through the air, end over end, until it miraculously buried itself an inch away from the center of the target. It was the first time that night that I'd even hit the sandbag.

I leapt in the air, crying out in triumph.

Ziva smiled at me and went to collect the knife. I'd been practicing with the one that she'd given me, but she said that as I improved, we'd practice with other knives so I could learn to throw various weights and sizes.

She walked back to me, handing me the knife hilt first. I took it with a smile and dipped my head towards her, "Thank you, Ziva."

She nodded and returned the smile. Then took her stance behind me and motioned for me to try again.

I pulled my arm back again, already sore, and took another deep breath before I threw.

This time, the knife buried itself in the center of the target, and I cheered.

Ziva patted me on the back and I went and got the knife.

When I returned to where Ziva was standing, she pointed towards a bench and said, "Put your knife down for now. Since you have managed to hit the target and are showing improvement, we'll move on to fighting styles. You still want to learn, correct?"

I nodded jerkily as I put the knife back into the sheath and set it down reverently on the bench. Ziva took off her long sleeved shirt and set it down on the bench. I followed suit and followed her nervously to a mat.

She nodded to me, then began, "We'll start with defensive motions. In a dangerous situation, it is best to know how to defend yourself, rather than going automatically into offense. I will come at you slowly, and aim for you face. Put your arms up in a position like this," She raised her arms into an x in front of her face, "And the moment I hit your arm, push back against me. Understood?"

I nodded and waited for her to move.

NCIS

I slammed into the mat for the 5th time and couldn't suppress a groan this time. My shoulders ached, and so did my throwing arm.

Ziva just smirked at me and helped me back to my feet. We had been here for an hour and a half already, and during that time, I was certain that Ziva was trying to kill me. She moved extremely quickly, and with such grace that I knew I didn't stand a chance due to my clumsiness. But she was also patient. And each time she knocked me down, she picked me up again and told me what I did wrong.

"You are too slow. You can run fast, but you need to have fast reflexes as well. When you begin to fall, force yourself into a roll, then push your feet up underneath you quickly so your opponent does not get the chance to 'kick you while you are down' so to say. It also benefits if you fall from a high area and need to hit the ground running. Rolling forward can take some of the pressure off of your legs, and your momentum can push you forward.

"Also, as I said before, use your opponent's momentum against them. Do not be afraid to fight without honor if you are in a situation that demands it. When you see an opening, take it. Understood?"

I nodded tiredly at her words, and took up another stance.

Ziva waited a moment before lunging forward with the speed of a cobra. But even though she was fast, I had a feeling that she wasn't even going half as fast as she probably could. That only made me more determined to do well.

I ducked as her fist sailed by next to my ear and jabbed at her exposed ribcage. I actually managed to land a hit and leapt away before she could hit me. We danced around each other for a few minutes; she kept kicking at me with her bare feet, and I kept trying to find an opening while keeping my torso and head protected against her onslaught.

I leapt over a low kick and ducked another swing. When her arm was near my face, I decided to use her momentum against her. Though I didn't have a major in it, I was fascinated with physics, so I knew that if I managed to use her speed and weight against her, and throw her in an arc, then I could possibly get her on the ground and get on top of her before she managed to kick me again. My ribs still stung from the last 3 times.

So, I grabbed her wrist, judged her weight with a glance, and turned my body into the throw.

I heard her gasp as I surprised her, but only briefly before I slammed her shoulders into the ground.

Well, that part of the plan had worked. Now I need to jump forward, twist in midair, and land on her stomach and somehow managed to incapacitate her before she got up again. That might have been a 3 second window. Maybe even 2.

So I threw myself forward, twisted, and landed in her stomach. Check one.

I threw my leg out behind me, grateful for long legs at that moment, and pinned her feet down. Then I shoved my elbow at her throat and used the other hand to grab her flailing hands and remain upright so she couldn't headbutt me or claw at me. Check two.

Now the hard part, keeping her down, and keeping her teeth away from my hand just in case she decided to turn cannibal on me.

I suddenly heard clapping, and that jarred my focus enough for Ziva to throw herself upward and reverse positions.

I groaned as my head slammed into the ground and looked blearily up at Ziva, who was grinning at me.

"Well done. It wasn't something I thought you could do yet, but well done." She said before leaping off of me. "You also need to be aware of your surroundings, so you cannot be surprised by them. I knew that Gibbs had been standing there halfway through the fight. Broaden your senses so you hear and see everything. Understand?"

I nodded weakly and looked up at Gibbs. Who, true to Ziva's word, was standing on the edge of the mat, coffee in hand, waiting patiently for us to finish.

"You did good. Tony has tried to pull that off for a while, and each time he ends up regretting it." Gibbs noted.

I felt a flush of pride at his words, and fought to keep the blush from rising to my cheeks.

Ziva smiled at me and Gibbs continued, "Get your stuff. I'll take you home. You better go home too, Ziva. The FBI should arrive here tomorrow afternoon."

Ziva made a face, and I realized that no one here really liked the FBI. Abby was annoyed with them, but Gibbs hated the fact that they were butting in on his case.

I walked back to my sweater and yanked it over my head, well aware that I needed a shower, and careful not to jostle my bruised muscles too much.

I picked the knife up, then bent down and pulled up my pant leg to strap it to my calf.

The knife was thin enough so that, when I pulled my pant leg down again, you could have mistaken the shape of it for wrinkles.

Ziva punched me lightly on the arm and said, "A hot shower helps with sore muscles. I shall see you in the morning, Kiles."

I nodded to her and managed a tired smile before she left.

Gibbs stood for a moment, just watching me carefully, before nodding and walking to the elevator.

I jogged after him and got into the elevator right before the door dinged closed.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 **Hey guys! For this chapter, I do not play the violin. Though I really want to learn. My instrument is the piano. And I'm told that I can sing. But, because I don't know much about violin's (I have one, I just need to learn how to play it) I apologize if I get anything wrong. I know that violins are a bit trickier to play than pianos, so, if you can play one, congrats. I'm having difficulty learning 'He's a pirate' on the piano.**

 **Anyway, enjoy this chapter!**

 **ST**

I nearly fell asleep numerous times on the way to the hotel. But I jerked upwards as we stopped.

I prepared to get out while saying, "Thanks for taking me back, Gibbs."

Then paused as he got out of the car. I furrowed my brow and got out after him, saying, "You don't have to walk me in. I'm only on the first floor."

He gave me a look and said, "I'm taking you home with me." He waved his hand towards the hotel, "It doesn't look very comfortable. I've got a guest room with a better bed. And no mice."

I bit my lip and fretted, "You don't have to do that, Gibbs. I'm fine."

He gave me a steely look and I sighed in defeat, "Fine. You win."

He nodded in satisfaction and held the door open for me.

I walked down the hallway and reached into my messenger bag for the key. Once I unlocked the door, I strode inside, leaving the door open for Gibbs. Grimacing at the smell. Although I had requested a smoker free room, the room still smelled like cigarettes.

I gathered my meager belongings quickly, packing up everything into my duffle bag. I had two duffle bags, one was filled with clothes, toiletries, and jewelry (Necklaces, leather bracelets, and earrings mostly). The other was filled with books.

Then, of course, my violin case. Plus my laptop and flash drives, those I stuffed into my messenger bag.

When I zipped up the last duffle bag, Gibbs surprised me further by taking both of the duffle bags and walking out before I could protest. I sighed and carefully picked up my violin.

When I signed out, Gibbs led me back to the car. I put my violin carefully in the back with my messenger bag as he put my duffle bags into the trunk of the car.

When he got back in, I smirked slyly and said, "You know, it's illegal to kidnap someone."

He smirked back at me before pulling out of the hotel parking lot.

NCIS

I loved Gibbs' house the moment I stepped into it, and the guest bedroom, though a bit plain, was comfortable and surprisingly roomy. It had a dresser, walk in closet, a bookshelf, and a queen bed. It was on the second floor, and had a big window.

Gibbs' left me alone and I took my time packing everything away. After putting my clothes in the dresser and my books in the bookshelf, I took a shower and changed into shorts and an old t-shirt that went down to my knees.

I stumbled down the stairs and was immediately greeted by the smell and sound of food cooking.

I staggered into the bright kitchen to find Gibbs standing at the stove, cooking delicious smelling cheeseburgers.

When he saw me, he smirked and asked, "You aren't vegetarian, are you?"

I shook my head quickly and leaned against a counter, crossing my arms with a slight shiver. I probably should've put on sweats.

Gibbs had. He now wore sweatpants and an old gray hoodie. He looked much more relaxed now, and was actually smiling lightly. The sight made me smile happily. Good to know that the stiff veteran relaxed at home.

I waited patiently as Gibbs put the burgers on buns and set the plates on the table. I sat down and waited for him as he walked to the fridge, pulling out two root beers and walking back to the table.

He handed me one of the root beers and I took it gratefully.

When he sat down, I didn't deny my growling stomach and dug into the food with glee.

Gibbs watched me with a growing smirk as he ate his more slowly.

I was soon done with it and smiled happily at him, "You are a wonderful cook, Gibbs. Thank you for the good meal."

He nodded and continued eating his burger.

I finished off the root beer as he finished with his meal. He took both plates and put them in the sink.

I decided that I would play the violin a bit before going to sleep, and walked upstairs to get it.

When I had my hands on the beloved instrument, I realized that I hadn't asked Gibbs if it was alright to play.

I walked downstairs with the violin still in my hand, and stopped when I found the living room and kitchen empty.

The door to the basement was open though, and I heard sounds coming from below. So I cautiously walked through the door.

The sight that greeted me was mind boggling.

A boat. A wooden boat. Was in the basement. And Gibbs was building it. Currently, he was pushing a sander reverently across the wooden skeleton.

When I began to walk down the steps with my mouth open, Gibbs looked up at me and smirked.

I looked around the garage, looking for something he could get the boat out of, but found nothing. There wasn't a big door, there wasn't a large window, the only way in and out was the door I had just exited out of. And he certainly couldn't get the boat out of that.

Did he build it just to demolish it again? If not, how did he get it out?

Gibbs gestured for me to come down, so I descended further into the basement despite the cold floor on my bare feet.

I pointed the bow towards the boat, "How do you get that out?" I asked.

Gibbs smirked, but didn't reply. Instead, he gestured to the violin, "Do you play?"

Instead of the sarcastic reply, I was too stunned by the magnificent boat to do more than nod.

Gibbs walked over to a workbench and turned a radio off. "Play it then."

Then he began to work on the boat again without another word.

After a moment of stunned silence, I settled the violin on my shoulder, and began to play a song that I had long since memorized. River flows through you. Normally, it was accompanied by a piano, but it sounded alright on its own. And besides, who would play with me?

I don't know how long I stood there, picking up another song when the last one ended, swaying to the music, before I realized that Gibbs was no longer sanding away. Instead, he was sitting on a chair, facing me with a small smile on his face.

Flustered by the attention, I nearly faltered, but instead, I smiled at him, closed my eyes, and continued playing.

NCIS

When my fingers began to ache, I slowly called another song to a close and removed the bow from the violin.

I opened my eyes to look at Gibbs, only to see him smiling affectionately at me. His eyes were bright, and his smile was warm.

"You should play for Duck sometime. He likes the violin, you two could have a duet with the piano and violin. It would be great to hear. Who taught you?" He asked softly.

I smiled and looked down, "My mom. I got to see her and Spencer on summer every year. Spencer loved piano, and I know how to play it as well, but I always loved it when my mom played the violin, and begged her to teach me. So she did. And Spencer taught me to play the piano. We would stage mock musical performances for her whenever she asked. I always loved it to see her smile."

Before I knew what was happening, Gibbs was in front of me, pulling me slowly into a hug, mindful of the violin, and I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"She sounds like a great woman." He said simply.

I nodded, "She is."

And that was that.


	11. Chapter 11

**For this chapter, I love John Wayne, and all of his movies. Specifically 'The Cowboys', "Mclintock', and 'El Dorado'. I always thought that Gibbs would be a John Wayne kind of guy, and Kiley is sorely lacking on classic westerns. But, all that is for later, right now, Kiley is going to be introduced to a classic favorite of mine, 'White Christmas'.**

 **Hope you enjoy! And, as always, leave me a review! I love hearing from you guys. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy.**

 **ST**

Kiley's POV:

Gibbs eventually led me upstairs and told me to put away my violin, then meet him in the living room.

I obeyed tiredly and walked downstairs to smell popcorn.

I rounded the corner to find Gibbs putting movies into a VCR player. A bowl of popcorn was on the coffee table, and blankets were on the couch.

When he saw me enter, he motioned to the couch as he finished up with the VCR. I obeyed, and sat on one end of the couch.

When Gibbs was done, a movie began on the TV. He walked over to me and sat at the other end of the couch. After a few minutes of watching the intro, he patted the seat beside him and picked up a blanket. I scooted over and he put his arm around me, spreading the blanket over my legs and pulling me closer to him.

I liked the safe feeling of being hugged again after so many years of not being hugged (Spencer did join the FBI after all. It didn't really allow him to take two months off every summer, so I just got to talk to him through phone calls and web chats), so I put my head on his lap and watched what Gibbs called 'White Christmas'. He even hummed along to the songs.

About halfway through, I sleepily asked, "Are you a good singer? My mom said that she always loved hearing me sing."

Gibbs ruffled my hair slightly, but kept his hand there, running gently through my hair as he replied, "You know, I'm not sure. I haven't sang in years." His reply was low, and quiet. And, surprisingly, open.

I hummed in response, and we continued to watch the movie, popcorn already gone.

NCIS

I woke up the next morning extremely confused as to where I was. But after sweeping a gaze throughout the room, I realized that I was in Gibbs' guest room. The thing was, I remember falling asleep on the couch, safe in Gibbs' arms. Did he carry me up here? Or was I just so out of it that I don't remember taking myself up here?

Either way, the sun was starting to come up, so I needed to get dressed.

NCIS

I walked downstairs with a yawn, still trying to tame my brown hair. While I slept, it had curled madly, and was now not responding to the brush. I didn't want to keep Gibbs waiting, so I figured that I could tame it during breakfast.

I caught sight of the basement door as I entered the living room and bit my lip. How did he get his boat out of there? It should be physically impossible. Maybe he doesn't take it out at all. But it wouldn't be Gibbs to build something just to tear it down again.

If that was true though, than how did he get it out? A secret hatch? That could bring the whole house down. Magic? Gibbs could be Gandalf. Only I'm pretty sure that Gandalf laughed more.

I jumped when I felt fingers on my brush and looked behind me. Gibbs was there, smirking at me, and holding my brush.

He motioned for me to sit down and I grudgingly obeyed. "Please don't jerk my hair out though." I pleaded.

However, Gibbs was surprisingly gentle. Like he'd done this before.

Before I could stop myself I blurted out, "Do you have a daughter, Gibbs?" His hands stilled and I hastened to add, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

His hands began again, and after a moment of silence, he said, "Yes. Her name was Kelly. She and her mother were the best things that happened to me." Silence. "They're dead."

I suddenly felt like a big jerk. Gibbs began to put my hair into a ponytail and I felt the need to say something, "I'm sor-"

A slight tug on my hair stopped me, and Gibbs said, "Don't apologize. It's a sign of weakness."

I wanted to say that it took someone strong to say sorry, but I didn't. Instead, I nodded and replied, "Thank you, Gibbs."

He nodded and gave my brush back to me.

I walked away quickly, heading back upstairs to my room to put the brush away. I needed to get away for a bit and force myself to calm down before I started to cry.

Gibbs was so kind to me. He was strong, resilient, loyal, trustworthy, and would have been a perfect father and husband. And he once had the chance of a family, but it was taken from him.

My thoughts drifted to my own mother. She was perfect, when she was lucid. When she wasn't, to say it was confusing would be an understatement. She didn't really remember Spencer or I, and would wonder around, sometimes getting violent and tipping things over, muttering under her breath. Spencer had always made sure that he and I were safe whenever she started to show signs of becoming not lucid. When she woke up though, she was back to be a perfect mother again.

She'd find us, waiting in some closet, and tell us that she'd found us, thinking we were playing hide and go seek, then she'd read to us until we fell asleep.

It wasn't fair that her illness took away time with her. But it was how life was. You had to fight to keep something you loved from harm, but sometimes, that wasn't enough.

That's why it was so important to have a family, to have friends, people you could rely on to get you through.

If nothing else, Gibbs had a family. I knew how McGee, Tony, Abby, Ducky, Ziva, and even Jimmy respected and loved Gibbs. And he obviously cared about them, even if he didn't show it.

So, he wasn't alone. And for that, I was grateful. A man like Gibbs deserved that much. Everyone did. But Gibbs needed it, even if he wouldn't ever say that.

NCIS

When I walked back downstairs, I threw a black jacket over my red shirt.

Today I was wearing another pair of ripped jeans, a red shirt, my sapphire pendant, leather bracelets, and calf high brown boots. My converse were awesome, if I wasn't running around everywhere. My boots were probably better for running anyway. They were hiking boots, and very flexible. Plus the knife that Ziva had given me safely strapped on underneath my boot.

I walked into the living room to find Gibbs dressed similarly to the way he was yesterday, and he was securing his gun on his hip.

He looked up when I entered and nodded to me. "Ready to go?" He asked.

I nodded and he led the way to his car.

NCIS

After we stopped to get coffee and another muffin for me, we drove to the NCIS building in silence.

By now, I surprised myself on this by the way, I was used to Gibbs' insane driving, and kept a tighter hand on my coffee and my muffin.

When we were finally in the elevator going up, I was awake enough to start the day. I was always more of a night owl. Spencer, after a few cups of coffee, was always the freakish morning person. However, without coffee, he basically had the same hand-eye-coordination as a zombie, and about half the speed.

We stepped out of the elevator and strode to the bullpen. I saw with a jolt that we were the only ones in the area that was normally occupied by Gibbs' team. Granted though, we were up here kind of early, despite our coffee stop, and not many people were roaming around at 6:00.

I located my chair and sat down next to Gibbs. I had brought my laptop today, so I pulled it out and looked at the suspect list again.

After entering a code that Gibbs had to look for in his desk, he had it written down in a notepad, not his computer, I began to look up everything.

It looked like an Italian restaurant owner had restaurants at each location, and had been visiting each in the past few months. Coincidence maybe? When I said as much, Gibbs gave me a hard look and said, "There is no such thing as a coincidence."

By that time, Tony and Ziva were walking in.

Gibbs saw them enter and looked thoughtfully at both of them, then back at me, before barking out, "Ziva, take Reid to," He looked over my shoulder at the computer and squinted at the screen, "Montoya's Italian Delight. Question the owners, they've been to all the areas where bodies show up."

I stood up as Ziva nodded and quickly put my laptop back into my bag before rushing after Ziva.

With my photographic memory, I already knew where to go, so the only thing left to do was direct Ziva.

That should be easy. At least I wasn't the one driving.


	12. Chapter 12

**Have you ever been on a family or friend vacation, and you are the person holding the map? So you're trying to tell the driver where to go, and it gets increasingly difficult when they start yelling 'You told me not to go on that road 10 minutes ago!'**

 **It's hilarious when you aren't the navigator, and can just watch your family or friends bicker and yell over it, knowing full well that it'll blow over soon. But if you are one of the people in the yelling matches, it is less than funny.**

 **I'm incorporating that feeling into this chapter. I've had numerous trips with this, except that when I'm the navigator or driver, I'm usually laughing too hard to make a convincing argument, which only makes the other person madder, which makes me laugh harder. Not good if I'm the driver.**

 **Anyway, I hope that I can at least make you smile!**

 **ST**

The car swerved to the right violently as a person merged into our lane and Ziva jerked the car over to pass him.

I yelped and held onto the door as we jerked to the side again. I saw where we were supposed to turn come and go and I pointed out the window shouting, "We were supposed to turn there!"

Ziva scowled at the rear view mirror as though it was to fault for us missing out turn. "I am sorry! But if that idiot had not gone into our lane, I would not have had to move!"

I moaned and leaned my head back, "You could have slowed down." I said wearily.

Bad thing to say apparently.

Ziva slammed on the brakes and did an illegal U-turn into the oncoming lane. Horns honked, people yelled, and I tightened my seat belt. Or, tried to.

Ziva drove on, picking up speed, only to slam on the brakes again and do another U-turn.

I clamped my mouth shut before I could scream and Ziva demanded, "Where is the turn?"

I pointed towards it, not trusting myself to speak. Unfortunately, it was on the other end of the multiple lane road of where we were at.

And it was coming up quickly.

I slouched further in my seat as Ziva began jerking through the lanes, revving up and slowing down when the situation demanded it.

I was sure that we were going to get numerous tickets, or run into someone and go to the hospital, but we didn't. No flashing red lights greeted us, and no one got hurt. Except for my mental health.

We turned down the branch off and Ziva asked, "Where else?"

So I began to rattle off directions, attempting to keep from yelping each time that Ziva jerked into another lane or turn quickly into on oncoming road. I, surprisingly, didn't yelp or scream. Even more surprisingly, we survived and pulled up the nice looking Italian Restaurant with its big flashy letters.

It had taken us several hours to get here, it was well in the morning, around 11:00, and the smell that greeted us when we stepped out made me want to ask Ziva to stop for an early lunch. I had always loved Italian food. Italian and Chinese were my weaknesses.

I got out of the car with shaking legs, and the only reason that I didn't fall on my face was because I had spent most of my life learning how to work with my clumsiness.

Ziva smiled at me as we walked away from the car and noted, "Tony does not like my driving, and staggers away from the car like an old man. You, however, do not. I enjoyed driving with you."

I gave her a smile and answered honestly, "It was exciting. Where did you learn to drive like that, and why do you drive so fast anyway, not that I'm complaining."

Ziva tilted her head thoughtfully as we stepped up the curb, "If you drive fast, you have a higher chance of avoiding roadside bombs. I learned that in my time as a Mossad Agent."

I fought to keep my mouth shut. I really shouldn't be surprised. Ziva had multiple knives, knew a lot of fighting styles, had a foreign accent, didn't understand American figures of speech, and Tony had muttered under his breath 'Ninja assassin' more times than one.

Ziva was watching me carefully, so I shot her an open mouth grin and said, "I could learn a lot from you, Ziva."

Her mood lifted and her eyes brightened, "I would enjoy teaching you. You are an apt student, and you learn quickly."

I nodded to her, "I am willing to learn what you can teach me, Ziva. It would be nice."

Ziva dipped her head and reached for the door, "Indeed. In return perhaps you could teach me more about American things. The American Movies that Tony loves so much, the games that McGee enjoys, and the American idioms that drive me up the hall."

It took my brain a few seconds to translate the last part, and I gave her a goofy grin as we stepped into the delicious smelling restaurant, "Wall, Ziva. They drive you up the wall, not hall."

Ziva scoffed angrily and shook her head, muttering. I snickered and followed her deeper into the well-lit restaurant.

The walls were a dark, rich red color, the floor was black tile, and the ceiling was white. Numerous mosaic lamps hovered over the many tables and booths, and there were skylights every so often. That, coupled with the wide windows flanked by white curtains, made the whole restaurant surprisingly roomy and gave it a nice feeling.

The restaurant was mostly empty, it was only 11, and the only people wandering around were the employees. Who were cleaning the tables and setting out the salt and sugar.

One of them came up to us. He was young, maybe 18, and I would be lying if I said he wasn't attractive. He had curly black hair that covered his ears and went just below his well defined jaw. His features were high and fair. He had an olive skin tone and bright green eyes. He had a slightly impish vibe, and the slight tilt in his lips was proof.

He was lean, but well built. His shoulders weren't broad, but I could see the outline of his muscle on his arms through his black shirt.

All in all, he had a ruggedly handsome look to him.

He smiled at me and asked, "What can I help you with? Are you here for an early lunch?" His accent bordered Spanish and Italian. And was very rich and sweet.

Ziva shook her head and showed him her badge, "NCIS. We are here to speak with the owners of this restaurant."

His face fell and his eyes looked at us warily, his body language going from open and inviting to cautious and closed off.

"Why do you need to speak with them?" He demanded quietly.

I smiled at him lightly, pouring sincerity into my voice, "They aren't in trouble. We just want to talk with them."

His body language relaxed lightly, but he was still looking at Ziva suspiciously. Then his eyes flicked back to me and he nodded, "Alright. I shall go get my father." Then walked away.

That would say why his attitude towards us changed to much.

Ziva exchanged a look with me and I shrugged, she had probably seen everything that I did about his attitude.

We waited for a few moments before a middle aged man stepped out, flanked by a short woman and the boy from before just a step behind both of them.

The man had dark hair that was cut short, and warm brown eyes. His eyes were surrounded by crows feet, so he smiled and laughed often. His face was kind and inviting, his skin olive tone, and his build was strong and well defined.

His wife was slender and lean, she had curly dark brown hair, dark green eyes, and an olive skin tone. Her face was fair, and her features defined and high. Her cheekbones and chin were angular, like her son's, and her eyes held kindness, but also calculation.

Ziva nodded to the man when he smiled, nervously, at us and held out his hand to Ziva. "My name is Ricardo Montoya, this is my wife Marissa, and my son, Diego. He said that you wished to speak with my wife and I?"

Diego. So that was his name.

The man's accent was Italian, and he spoke very quickly.

Ziva took his hand and shook it firmly, "My name is Ziva David." She nodded to me, "This is Kiley Reid." I smiled comfortingly at the man and he nodded to me with a warm smile, "We are sorry to bother you, Mr. Montoya. But would you mind answering a few questions?"

He looked at Ziva, then at me, and shook his head. "Not at all, Miss David."

He waved towards a table and indicated that Ziva sit down. Then he glanced at me again and said, "Your companion looks young."

Ziva nodded curtly and replied, "She is. She is new to the agency. She is required to shadow us before becoming a full agent."

Mr. Montoya nodded, but still looked unsure. Ziva saw this and nodded to me, "Kiley, perhaps you should question the employees, if it is alright with Mr. Montoya."

Mr. Montoya nodded jerkily, and waved to Diego, "Diego can answer your questions. But please do not bother more of my staff than necessary."

I nodded and gave him a sincere smile, "Of course not, Mr. Montoya. I won't bother them if I don't have to. Thank you."

He smiled back at me while his wife fixed me with a calculating gaze. I smiled at her before she looked away.

Diego nodded to me and lead me to a different table.

When we sat down, I dug into my bag and pulled out a picture I had snagged of the Lieutenant. Sometimes, I could be extremely quiet and sneaky when I wanted to, and if I wasn't so interested with being nice, I'd be a good pick pocket. Simple physics really.

I showed Diego the picture of the Lieutenant, which showed him in uniform, posing for the camera.

"Do you know this man?" I asked. Diego took the picture in his hand, then shook his head. "No."

I nodded, and asked, "Have you seen this man anywhere? Passing on the street, in the restaurant, or even on the TV?"

Diego shook his head again.

So I asked the next question, pulling out another photo, this one a map of all the areas the victims were found, "Have you been to any of these places recently?"

He spared a glance at the paper, then shook his head. "No. We have restaurants in this areas, and a few of the employees have been to each restaurants to make sure they are still operating well."

I nodded and pulled out a notebook from my bag, "Do you think you could give me the names of these employees?"

Diego looked at me suspiciously, his loyalty coming back into play, so I added, "We have to check. If they are innocent, they have nothing to worry about. We won't check any personal information. The only thing we'll check is where they've been, and if they saw any suspicious people while they were traveling." I kept my voice low and convincing.

After a moment of hesitation, Diego nodded and reached for the pen.

He wrote down a few names, then turned a page and wrote down a number before handing it back to me. I looked at him curiously and he smiled at me, "You can call me if you have any added questions. I do not mind talking to you, despite what it may seem like. You are honest, and kind in telling me."

I smiled back at him, then wrote my number on another piece of paper before handing it to him. I saw Ziva rise out of the corner of my eye and stood up as well, "Call me if you can think of anything else."

He nodded to me, and I could feel him watching me as I stepped next to Ziva, who nodded to Mr. and Mrs. Montoya and said, "Thank you for your time. Please call us if you can think of anything else."

They nodded, inching closer together, and we left the restaurant quickly. All the while, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was staring at me. Someone not good.

But I could see no one who had an unsavory look to them, so I followed Ziva out silently.


	13. Chapter 13

I walked out of the elevator, still looking intently at the paper in my hand.

There were five names on it.

Peter Sanchez.

Dusk Chase.

Alisa May.

Joshua Valence

Percy Anderson.

All of them had been at the restaurants in the locations of the murders. One of them might have seen the killer. One of them might **be** the killer. Or we could be barking up the wrong tree.

If only I could have met them! But Mrs. Montoya had lost patience with Ziva fairly quickly, so we didn't overstay our welcome.

I bit my lip as Ziva and I walked into the bullpen. So intent was I on the scrap of paper in my hand, as though it would give me all the answers, I by-passed the black mood the first time.

But, when I looked up, it was obvious.

I looked around at my brooding companions and asked, "Okay, I'll bite, what's wrong?"

Gibbs just glared harder at his computer screen. So Tony answered with a dramatic sigh, "The FBI team got here. And it isn't Fornell."

Fornell, that name sounded familiar. I think Abby mentioned him yesterday.

"Alright, who is it then?" I pressed.

Tony threw his hands up into the air, "We don't even know half their names! They're from the BAU or something. The only one we really talked to was 'SSA Aaron Hotchner'. Who, by the way, could curdle milk with his stare."

Hotchner. Now that name _really_ sounded familiar. But where had I heard it before?

I bit my lip, trying to think, but was cut out of my musings by Ziva saying, "Kiles, give McGee the list of names we acquired earlier."

I jumped slightly, then nodded, berating myself for forgetting, and handed the paper to McGee. He took it with a nod in my direction and began typing the names into his computer.

I began to reach for my chair until Tony jumped up, grabbing a clicker and turning on the TV. This got him the attention of Gibbs and Ziva, as well as myself.

The former two getting to their feet and crowding around Tony and I.

"What do ya got, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

Tony grinned and clicked something. Pictures appeared side by side on the screen, and I recognized the Lieutenant among the pictures. The others were foreign, but there was ten in all, so it didn't take a genius to figure out who they were.

There was 4 girls and 6 guys. All of them had records beside their pictures, and I noticed with a glance that every single one of them was successful in one way or another. One of the girls was 28 an already had her doctorates degree in Medical Science, and had been the head doctor of her hospital before she was killed.

A man was 23 and had a PhD in History, and had been teaching at a high end college. He had been well loved throughout the school if his achievements were anything to go by.

Another girl had had her own veterinary clinic at the age of 24.

A man was a rocket scientist at the age of 26.

A girl, who was 22, had her doctorates in law. She had been offered a job at a really good lawfirm.

Each and every one of them was successful in one way or another, and each of them was an academic stigma. Plus, all of them were attractive.

"Well Boss, the BAU finally decided to give us some of their case files. And just emailed me this." He gestured to the screen.

I bit my lip and muttered, "Maybe that's why."

Gibbs gave me a look, prompting me to explain.

"Well, look at all of them. They're all attractive. They were successful, they had steady relationships, at least most of them, they were well loved, and they all had something to be jealous of. All of their hearts were cut out; all of them, except our Lieutenant, showed signs of being restrained and tortured. All of them were left with a black rose. Except the Lieutenant. He had a Rose bud. That's because he wasn't tortured. He wasn't retrained. The killer left a message that said he didn't get to complete everything. So, instead of a full rose, a rose bud was placed in his mouth.

"The hearts being cut out suggest he had personal ties with them. But all of these people were different, they probably never crossed paths with one another, and I doubt he was all of their friend. So, if he's jealous of the achievements of others, then he would cut the hearts out of his victims after brutally torturing them and restraining them, ensuring they wouldn't get away."

I rambled off what I was thinking. I winced when I realized that I might have been going too fast, "Sorry, was I going too fast?" I murmured.

A soft cuff on the back of my head alerted me to Gibbs' 'rule' that he told me this morning. I gulped, "Right, no saying sorry. Gotcha." I wanted to say sorry, for saying sorry, but refrained.

I heard a noise of agreement from Gibbs, then he barked, "See if these people came into contact with any of the names that Kiley and Ziva pulled up. Ziva, look up anyone else who came into contact with any of these people. Look around, pull up every stone you can, I want to know why these people were so damn special to the killer."

He began walking away and called over his shoulder, "Reid! With me."

I jogged to catch up to him.

NCIS

We walked along a series of hallways and I was sure that if I hadn't had photographic memory, I would never be able to make it out again.

We stopped at a door and Gibbs growled, "This is where the FBI team is. Director Vance already told them that we had a young genius joining us, but didn't tell em your name."

He gave me a steely, questioning look, and I nodded to him.

He dipped his head in reply, then pushed the door open.

I followed close after him, but wound up ramming into his back when he stopped a few steps away from the door.

I backpedaled, rubbing my nose angrily, and stepped around him into the room while giving him a glare, "You could maybe, I don't know, move a little bit into the room and give me time to step around you before you stop!" I growled half-heartedly.

The moments the words were out of my mouth, I heard a gasp fill up the room and turned curiously to see who was surprised at me yelling at Gibbs.

What I saw made me freeze, and my mouth fell open.

7 people were in various places around the room, and pictures and papers were strewn about the wide table, but what surprised me, was that the man half hidden behind a box of files, was Spencer.

My older brother was here in D.C. Working a case with NCIS. And he didn't call. How rude.

He stood so quickly his chair nearly fell over. "Kiley? What are you doing here….." His voice trailed off and I gulped. I flicked my eyes to Gibbs, and found him staring evenly at me, encouraging me to move.

I smiled lightly at Spencer and waved lightly, "Hello, older brother. How have you been?" My voice was cheerful and light, but Spencer's alarmed expression didn't change.

My words, however, spurned his teammates on, and a dark skinned man leapt up in surprise, alternating between Spencer and I.

"Wait, what?! Pretty boy! You never told us you had a little sis! Or that she worked with NCIS!" He cried out.

Pretty boy? Wow.

Spencer looked down with a grimace and I heard the muttered words, "I didn't know she worked with NCIS."

I grinned apologetically at him. "Sorry I didn't call, it's been a crazy few days. It all really started with me taking down an armed gunman!" Okay, maybe that was a bit cruel, but I was still reeling at the fact that my brother was here, and that he didn't tell his team that he had a sister.

Spencer's face paled, and he was at my side faster than I could really see him move. Gibbs tensed beside me as Spencer's fingers grabbed my jaw gently and tilted it up so he could see the cut along my cheekbone better.

"Why is it that you always get into trouble?" He asked quietly as he inspected the cut. Oh, that thing was the least of my problems. But he didn't need to know that.

I pulled my head back, and his hand fell back to his side.

I looked back into the room of new faces and shrugged, finally replying to Spencer, "Well, you know, I've always possessed a really good talent at making people angry. Because I'm smart. Because I'm young. Because I think without speaking. It seems like there is always a reason.

"But, what I want to know is, what is your reason for not telling them that I existed? I've told him that I had a brother." I pointed towards Gibbs and continued, "And I've only known him two days."

Spencer sighed and looked around helplessly. "It never came up." He muttered quietly. I rolled my eyes, but didn't broach the topic. Out of the two of us, I was always the more open one. Spencer's experiences pointed towards it.

One of the older men walked forward a bit with interest clear on his face, "You say that you've only known him for two days, and yet he stands so close to you. He's protective of you, and he tensed the moment Reid started towards you, like he was preparing to step in front of you. He's an Alpha Male, it's in his nature to protect and defend people weaker than him."

Gibbs tensed beside me and turned a blank frown at the man, neither denying nor confirming what the man had said. Except one thing, something that surprised me.

"Kiley isn't weak. She just knows what she's doing. And I protect my people." He said with a one armed shrug.

I fought to keep the surprise off my features and smiled at him briefly before turning my gaze back to the man.

Spencer's mouth turned down slightly, "Your people? Kiley isn't one of your 'people'. She's my sister. And she isn't part of NCIS."

Gibbs stared levelly at him, "She could be if she wanted to."

Spencer looked at me, before looking back up at Gibbs.

I will say this for my brother, and for his team, during his time with them, he has become more confident, and isn't afraid to challenge someone if the situation demands it.

However, right now that was going to get annoying.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys! I had forgotten about putting this on my first chapter, so I'll put it on now.**

 **If you do not like this story, you do not have to read it. It is entirely your choice whether or not to read it. I have not put some curse or charm on it that commands you to keep reading even if you don't want to. I promise, I'm not some secret witch or something.**

 **And if I was said witch, I totally wouldn't be in Ravenclaw. Definitely not.**

 **ST**

Kiley's POV:

Before Spencer could begin to tell Gibbs every single way that he was wrong, he was opening his mouth to do just that, I looked at the man who had spoken up before and said,

"I was aware of that the moment I met him. But, if you're going to point out that, shouldn't you also say something about the other two alpha males in this room? Not counting yourself of course. Him," I pointed to the dark skinned one, "And him." I pointed towards the stiff looking man.

The man I had been addressing brightened, "Ah. So, are you like our own Spencer Reid? A natural born profiler?"

The stiff looking man flicked his eye almost dismissively at me, and I felt Gibbs tense beside me. He had caught the look too.

My fingers began to dance on my leg, but I knew that if I passed up this moment, I might not get another one. Like I said, I was always the bolder one between Spencer and I.

"You wear a mask." I began. His eyes flicked back to me, and seemed calculating. His gaze was so unnerving, that I almost backed up. But I felt Gibbs step up to my shoulder, and he was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his arm. He gave me the confidence to continue.

"You've carefully crafted a mask. Either over years of having to perfect a poker face while dealing with killers, or because of some emotional trauma. It could be both.

"You're an Alpha Male. You demand respect the moment you step into a room. Your presence is demanding, and most people would immediately react with backing down because of that unspoken demand. You are confident in your abilities, and you are a silent protector. A guardian. I imagine, that if I would act harshly to a member of your team, you'd analyze my actions and deem whether or not they could fight me on their own. If not, you would step in.

"However, you automatically demand respect from everyone you work with or above. But, what you don't realize yet is, with this team, with this family, they aren't going to respect you only for who you are. Because, Aaron Hotchner," I raised my chin defiantly and continued in a low voice, "Respect must be _earned_. It cannot be simply given away. You have apparently earned the respect of your team, but you have not earned the respect of this," Gibbs elbowed me slightly and I corrected with a grin, "My team."

He took a step forward and began to tear apart my walls again with his eyes. Tony was right, his stare could curdle milk. But I forced myself to stand my ground, despite the piano playing fingers.

"Correct. Now allow me to return the favor.

"You are a misunderstood teenager. You feel as though no one can or will even try to understand you, and the first person," I ignored it when his eyes flicked to Gibbs, "To show you that it is possible, you latch onto.

"You value loyalty, as you show with Agent Gibbs and his team. You also hold great respect to those who have earned it, and once they earn that respect, they have your loyalty. But, you have shown that you give it away freely since you already gave it to Gibbs after two days of meeting him. That, or Agent Gibbs is a man who can be respected.

"You also have a mask. A false bravado to hide behind. You are anxious, you are jittery, and you have almost stepped back numerous times while talking to me. But, you are keeping a confident mask on your face, to show me that you are not afraid of me, though certain evidence shows otherwise.

"Because you can slip into that mask so easily, you show that you are a manipulator. You can easily convince people of something, all by slipping behind a false bravado and commanding attention. Contrary to what others might think judging by the way you act, you do not know everything."

I forced myself to smirk at him, proving the whole 'false bravado' and gave him a half bow. "Congrats. You've nailed it on the head. I'm aware that I don't know everything, and don't claim to. I just like observing, and reading what I can."

When I straightened, I turned my head towards Spencer and gestured to the others, "So? Aren't you going to introduce me to your team?"

After a moment of silence, in which he stared at Gibbs, as though still itching to hand Gibbs his education, he sighed and began listing them off at a fast speed that I knew the others would have trouble keeping up with. For me, though, it was easy.

"Derek Morgan. Penelope Garcia. Emily Prentiss. JJ. David Rossi. And Aaron Hotchner."

I mentally cataloged the info off as he pointed to each person.

After he was done, I nodded to all of them, "Nice to meet you." I kept my tone polite, but didn't show anything with it.

Then I looked back at Agent Hotch and continued, "I know that it is odd for a college student to tag along on a case, but I have permission, and I promise that I will try my hardest not to mess anything up, or get in your way." I felt my lip curl up a bit, "However, I'm taking my orders from him," I pointed to Gibbs, "So don't expect me to bow down to you on the first day."

The other agents in the room watched us with horrified/shocked expressions, as though they were waiting for Hotch to start yelling at me. And I think Gibbs thought the same, because he stepped forward slightly, situating me partly behind him.

Instead, Hotch's lips twitched upwards, before going back into a hard line. It wasn't much, but I felt a rush of relief sweep through me so viciously that I almost fell over.

Hotch nodded to me, and turned back to his team, "Alright. What do we know so far?"

The rest of his team went into a flurry of movement at his words, and began working again. Except Spencer.

Spencer wrapped his hand around my arm and dragged me out of the room.

In the hallway, with the door safely closed, he turned on me and searched my face. "What have you gotten into? You're suddenly working with the NCIS now? You ran into an armed gunman? Is that what happened to your cheek? Why did you flinch when I touched your arm? You acted like it hurt? Are you ok? Who's Gibbs?"

I searched for the right answers and replied, "I have no clue, yes, yes, yes, I've been getting self-defense lessons, I'm fine, and Gibbs is a good man who takes care of his own." I spoke just as fast as he did, but Spencer had no problem keeping up.

"Who's been teaching you self-defense? How do you know Gibbs' is a good man? And where did you run into an armed gunman?" He pressed.

"A woman named Ziva David who is on Gibbs' team, I'm a profiler and Gibbs hasn't shown me anything but kindness, and a coffee shop." I fired back.

Spencer groaned and muttered, "It's like pulling teeth. How did you come across an armed gunman in a coffee shop? How do you know this 'Ziva David' is a good person? And anyone can show you kindness and stab you in the back afterwards."

I ground my teeth together and replied, "For the record, I've never had my teeth pulled, so I have no clue what you are talking about. I was getting coffee and breakfast, saw an armed gunman in the shop, the next thing I know, he has a gun pointed at me and is shouting that he wants to rob anyone in the shop. I knew I had to do something, so I hit him with my messenger bag. I knocked the gun out of his hand, he hit me with a ring, I knocked him to the ground, and then Gibbs showed up and stopped him from trying anything else.

"Ziva is a good person, and she is trying to help me become a better fighter so that next time I'm in a sensitive situation I can fight back just in case I don't have 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea' handy. If you would give Gibbs a chance, you'd find that it isn't in his profile to stab people in the back, and any of his team can confirm that."

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths. Though he had trouble talking to other people, let alone raising his voice, he had no problem with me. But after he had scared me by yelling when I was 6, he tried not to raise his voice at all with me.

Finally, after he counted to ten 3 times, he opened his eyes and looked at me wearily. "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?"

I nodded, taking a tentative step towards him, "I liked it when Mom read it to us. I still read it whenever I can since I can't actually have someone else read it to me, like you used to when Mom couldn't."

Another sigh and I looked down. Often times, I was an expert at making people either disappointed in me, or exasperated with me. But I tried so hard to make Spencer proud.

Right now though, I had a sinking feeling that I had disappointed him.

Then he startled me by wrapping his arms around my shoulders and drawing me towards him. The moment I was in his arms, I immediately relaxed. It didn't matter how old I was, if someone I loved and trusted hugged me, I would hold on like a two year old.

So far, there was only three people. My mom. Spencer. And, can you guess who the next one was?

I sighed and put my arms around Spencer's waist and breathed in his cologne.

After a few moments, he pulled away and ruffled my hair.

I looked up at him, and forced all of my 'Please do what I say' powers into my doe eyed look, "Spencer, please don't get angry with Gibbs. He has protected me, and he is a very good man. Even if he doesn't look like it. So no going into over protective older brother mode. Okay? Be nice to him, and do not attempt to give him his education back tenfold."

He looked at me for minute, then mirrored my expression, big doe eyes and all, and replied, "I will only do that, if you will behave with Hotch and Rossi. That means no getting into useless arguments with them just for the sake of getting into an argument. And do not turn your weird 'I'm innocent and cute, love me' powers on JJ, Prentiss, or Morgan. I would say Garcia too, but she'd probably beat you."

I held his gaze for as long as I could before beginning to giggle.

He smiled back at me and I bowed to him, "Certainly, brother dearest. I should know by now that I won't win this contest. But you will be nice to Gibbs and his team, won't you?"

He nodded and replied, "Only if you're nice to mine."

I dipped my head, then opened the door and stepped back into the conference room.

Right into a heated staring competition between Gibbs and Hotch. And they were both a foot from each other.

Great. Dodged one bullet, just to get smacked with the other.

Just how I wanted to spend my afternoon.


	15. Chapter 15

I froze and felt Spencer tense beside me. His entire team was staring at the two men with a sort of abstract horror.

I just sighed and shook my head, I should have guessed that would have happened. After what Hotch had hinted at, and due to the fact that Gibbs was protective of his team, it should have been painfully obvious.

I had no clue what they were 'discussing' before Spencer and I entered the room again, but you didn't have to be a genius to know that Gibbs was one step away from hitting Hotch. And maybe Hotch was edging him on.

So, before they could get that far, I exchanged a look with Spencer, and we both stepped forward while Gibbs growled, "They are my team, and you will respect them."

Hotch opened his mouth to reply, but Spencer grabbed his arm and gently pulled him away. I stepped in front of Gibbs and held his gaze for several seconds before hissing, "Vance said to play nice. This isn't playing nice. Tony, Ziva, McGee, Abby, Ducky, and Jimmy can all take care of themselves. They would not want you to get into a fist fight with the BAU agents, because if you do that, all of you will be removed from the case. You know this."

Gibbs glowered at me, before scoffing. "Fine."

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

I sighed wearily and turned to look at Spencer, who was speaking to Hotch the same way I had been with Gibbs.

Hotch finally dipped his head and gave Spencer a hard look before stalking to a board filled with pictures.

The rest of Spencer's team looked at both of us in surprise, and Morgan walked towards us saying, "I've never seen anyone come that close to hitting Hotch. And I've seen a lot of people want to hit him. I've also never seen you pull him away, Reid."

Spencer looked down, and I saw the tips of his ears redden.

Morgan looked back to me and grinned, "You must have a lot of guts kid. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand towards me, and after a moment, I took it.

"Pleasure to meet you too, Agent Morgan." I replied curtly.

He raised an eyebrow at me, but couldn't say anything before Garcia pounced on me.

Her arms were suddenly around me and she squealed, "It's so nice to meet you! You're older brother is awesome! You are the most adorable thing I've seen since I met Spencer!"

She rocked me back and forth with her excitement and I awkwardly attempted to hug her back, but, since my arms were pinned at my sides, I could do little more than pat her back in greeting.

"Nice to meet you too, Garcia." I choked out.

Garcia finally released me and gave me a blinding grin. "Come on! Show me if your brain is a big and bold as your brothers!"

She took my hand and began to tug me towards her computer. At that moment, however, I was saved by the conference door opening and Tony poking his head warily inside.

He took in the scene with narrowed eyes, and when he reached me, I gave him a thinly hidden pleading look. He seemed to understand, and strolled into the room.

Throwing his arm over my shoulders, he chirped, "Sorry there, but I'm gonna borrow Kiles here. The Boss wants her."

He began to pull me away from Garcia, but she was reluctant to let me go. "But I want to see who our Junior G's sister is!"

Tony pulled me away from her, calling over his shoulder, "We saw her first!" Before parading me out of the conference room with quick strides.

NCIS

Tony led me back into the bullpen, drug my chair over to his desk, and plopped down in his chair. After a glance at Gibbs, who was staring determinedly at his computer, I sat down.

Tony handed me my messenger bag, then began typing at his computer.

I shot Gibbs another glance, then opened my computer with a sigh and began looking up the restaurant owned by the Montoya's.

It had started in 1954, when the Montoya's ancestors moved from Italy to America. From there, it had been successful, and branched out across the eastern American border. It had been passed down from father to son, or mother to daughter, for generations.

The modern Mr. Montoya had married his Spanish wife when he had traveled to Spain to broaden his cooking talents in an authentic environment. Or at least, that what his online report said.

Apparently, mostly everything the restaurant did was put on an online record, including all of the foreign travels the family did to gain 'authentic experience'.

Mr. Montoya had 4 children. His oldest son was named Virgil, after him was his daughter, Lucinda, then Diego, and finally his youngest daughter, Anna.

He and his brother had split the restaurant workloads, and each sent employees to the various restaurants monthly. Occasionally they would visit in person.

In the past few months, however, they had sent their employees in their place.

I ran a hand through my hair. I doubt that the Montoya's would allow us to return to the restaurant without a warrant, and I didn't blame them. We had basically accused their employees of murder. Or at least, in their heads we did.

Maybe we'd get lucky. Maybe I could call Diego, see what he thought. But then again, he didn't have to tell me the truth, and he might clam up as soon as I started to talk about it.

I sighed.

This might be a longer day than yesterday.

NCIS

My head snapped up when Ziva called out my name.

I realized with a shock that the sun was almost gone, and the night lights of the city were beginning to pop up.

Ziva inclined her head towards me, "Do you feel up to more training?"

I leapt to my feet and nodded. "Yes. My legs were beginning to cramp from sitting so long."

Ziva smiled and stood up.

I put my laptop in my bag, and was about to sling it over my shoulder when a cough from Gibbs stopped me.

He raised his eyebrows at me and held out his hand. I grinned at him and dropped the bag into his outstretched hand with a murmured, "Thanks, Gibbs."

He nodded once, and I ran after Ziva towards the elevator.

NCIS

"Oh come on." I gasped out as I smacked into the mat for the 7th time that night.

I groaned and pushed myself into a sitting position.

Ziva crouched in front of me with a small smirk on her face. "You are improving. You managed to get a few hits in of your own before I incapacitated you."

I managed to give her a wry grin, "Ah yes, I can see how much I've injured you. So much, in fact, that I doubt you shall be walking correctly for a week."

Ziva chuckled and held her hand out to me. I took it and allowed her to haul me to my feet.

"Perhaps after a few more lessons, you shall be able to defend yourself entirely on your own." Ziva noted.

I smirked at her, and opened my mouth to reply, until the one voice I did not want to hear tonight invaded the air instead.

"What are you doing to my sister?!" An outraged voice called out and I winced, closing my eyes and muttering under my breath.

I turned to see my brother stalking towards me, and he was glaring at Ziva lividly.

As I said earlier, I was proud of my brother for gaining confidence in his years at the BAU, but it could be annoying at times.

Ziva scowled at Spencer and moved to walk forward, but I stepped in front of her first and crossed my arms.

"Spencer, meet Ziva. Ziva, meet my older brother, Spencer. Spen, I told you that I was being taught self-defense. I'm doing it willingly, Ziva is teaching me how to hold my own. I'm fine. Granted, I'm a bit sore, but that isn't anything a good shower and a comfortable bed can remedy. So stop glaring at Ziva for something that was my choice." I said with a scowl.

I held Spencer's gaze for a few more minutes, and, when he refused to say something, I pressed, "Would you rather I not know any at all and get more hurt because of it? This way, it's in a controlled environment, and I trust Ziva not to hurt me more than the sore muscles."

Eventually, the anger faded from his gaze and he sighed, before looked at Ziva over my shoulder. His expression was a war between acceptance that I was right, and reluctance because he didn't want me to get hurt.

Then he held out his hand, saying, "It's nice to meet you, Ziva. I guess I should thank you for attempting to teach my sister something remotely athletic."

I stepped back a bit, allowing Ziva to shake Spencer's hand firmly with a small smirk on her face. "She is clumsy at times, but she can work through it when she needs to. Although it is sometimes funny to watch her trip over her own feet."

Spencer grinned slightly at her words and I stared at both of them in shock. "Seriously? You go from 'Don't hurt my sister' to making fun of me? Some brother you are." I huffed in mock distress.

I turned away from Spencer and began walking towards my things.

All my life, if I ever really wanted something from my brother, or to make him stop teasing me about something, all that I had to do was act distressed. Yes, maybe it was cruel, but he did the same thing to me. When it came to each other, we were blind to trickery most of the time.

I hated to cry, so I never acted like I would. Spencer knew that. So, he knew, that if I started to cry, something was wrong and all bets were off.

However, that being said, I could make my voice sound pitiful.

Like I just did.

I heard a sigh, and Spencer called out, "Come on, Kiley. I didn't mean it like that."

Ziva also apparently believed my little act, and hastened to reassure me, "Nor did I. I was merely teasing you."

I put my sweatshirt on with a slight wince and bent down to strap my knife to my leg.

They were behind me now, both starting to speak again.

I couldn't hold back the grin and turned to them with a sarcastic smirk on my face, "Seriously guys? Why would I be offended of someone pointing out my clumsiness? You two were just too easy."

I dodged the punch Ziva threw at me and snickered at Spencer's 'Why haven't I learned yet?' expression.

Then I heard a loud laugh from behind me and turned my head.

A few people from Spencer's team were walking towards us. Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss. Morgan was laughing and when he reached us, he patted my shoulder saying, "Dang Pretty Boy! You got duped!"

I allowed a smile to break out and Morgan noticed, "And, little genius just smiled at me. I think that's a win-win!"

Rossi nodded to me and held his hand out towards Ziva, "David Rossi, it's a pleasure to meet you. These are my companions, Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss."

Ziva raised an eyebrow at him, then took his hand in a hearty shake.

"Ziva David." She replied curtly.

I didn't fail to see the connection, but didn't comment on that.

 **Sapphire here guys! So, if any of you are younger siblings, you know that it is kind of easy to make your older siblings to do what you want sometimes. I remember when I was younger, and even now sometimes, all that I had to do to get my brother to stop picking on me was pretend to cry.**

 **Instantly, he would do whatever he could to make me happy again, all the while repeating the mantra, "Don't tell mom." Or "You can hit me back, see?"**

 **It was very funny at times.**

 **But, I thought, since Kiley and Spencer were siblings, they'd be like that. Plus, Ziva might have picked up on Spencer's emotions and acted on them, even if she wasn't sure that Kiley was telling the truth.**

 **What about your siblings? Did you do the same?**

 **ST**


	16. Chapter 16

Morgan's voice drew me out of my thoughts by saying, "What hotel are you staying at tonight? We just got here, so we still need to find someplace to stay. I'd figure Pretty Boy would want to stay where you are."

Before I could respond that I wasn't staying at a hotel, Gibbs voice rang out, "She's staying with me."

All of us turned towards him and I grinned.

He was striding towards us with yet another coffee in his hand, and my bag on his arm.

But as soon as I was caught with happiness at seeing him and not having to answer the question, I remembered that my brother was here, and, though he had agreed to be civil to Gibbs, that might have crossed the line.

"What are you talking about?" Spencer demanded, stepping forward slightly.

I sighed wearily and rubbed my head. It already hurt from connecting with the mat, this was going to make it worse.

Gibbs shrugged and stopped a few feet from me, "I said she's staying with me. There wasn't a reason for her to waste money on a room when she's got one with me."

I grabbed Spencer's arm and hissed, "It's fine. I'm fine. The hotel that I managed to get wasn't that nice, so Gibbs offered me a spare room at his house. I accepted. I did so _willingly._ Please _do not_ draw your gun at my friend."

His hand twitched, lifting off his hip, and he glared at Gibbs, before looking back at me. I held his gaze for several moments, watching emotions war on his face, before he sighed in defeat. "Fine. But, I'm here now, so you can come to our hotel with us."

I glanced at Gibbs. His jaw was locked, and he had a death grip on his coffee.

I shook my head and watched Spencer's face fall. I hastened to reassure him with, "Spen, all of my stuff is at Gibbs house. I really don't think you'll appreciate all of that in a hotel room that I'll undoubtedly share with you. Besides, it's easier this way. I trust Gibbs just like I trust you. I promise, I'm fine staying at Gibbs' house. And there really is no sense about you spending money just to get me a hotel room, or having to share your room with your little sister. I'm fine."

I watched as Spen contemplated my answer, and he finally sighed, seeing the logic in my words, and gave me a nod. Then he turned to Gibbs, "Take care of my sister." He almost growled it.

I was shocked. And so was Morgan and Prentiss. Ziva was shocked because someone had actually spoken to Gibbs like that.

Gibbs just smirked at him, "Always planned on it." He replied.

Then he inclined his head to me and began walking towards the elevator. Ziva followed him immediately, but I grabbed Spencer's hand and said, "I love you. I'll see you in the morning, ok?"

He sighed and stared at me for a bit, then nodded, murmuring, "I love you too. Be careful, ok?"

I nodded back, and hugged him briefly before turning and sprinting to catch the elevator Gibbs was holding for me.

NCIS  
The next week passed in the same fashion. Every day, I'd get coffee with Gibbs in the morning, we'd get to NCIS, I'd act as mediator between Gibbs' team and Hotch's (Or, Gibbs VS Hotch), we'd find new suspects, people would leave to question them, I'd train with Ziva at night under Spencer's watchful eye (It took several minutes to calm him down the first time and tell him that he couldn't stop the fight just because I had cried out for not moving fast enough), then I'd go home with Gibbs and play the violin while he worked on his boat (Which was still confusing. How did he get it out?!).

I managed to get on Hotch's good side, I have no clue how, and he had even given me (What I thought was) a compliment on how 'I'm quick to learn'. I'm still not totally sure if he meant that I was quick to learn how to take orders, or if he was (slightly) impressed by how fast my thought process worked.

Garcia has already seemed to adopt me, but after she and Abby had a stare down, I spent more time with Abby.

The rest of Hotch's team seem to like me, but I preferred to be in the bullpen with Gibbs' team rather than in the conference room. It made my NCIS friends happier, even if they didn't say anything, and whenever I actually got cornered into staying in the conference room, Abby, Tony, McGee, Ziva, even Gibbs sometimes, would always pop up, asking for my help, and successfully get me back to either the bullpen or the lab.

The bullpen is where I am now actually. With nothing to do until the BAU team is finished talking with Gibbs about what they have found, all of which I've heard.

The killer keeps his victims for three to four days from the time they go missing to the time they appear again. While they are in his clutches, he tortures them ruthlessly. But only using knives, blunt objects, and fire. No sign of sexual abuse at all. And other than that, only the occasional bullet wound shows up.

Then they appear, dressed in clean clothing, with bruises and other injuries littered about their body, with a black rose in their hand. Modern day Picasso.

So, while Gibbs was enduring (And hopefully not killing them) his lecture on what they had found, how many dead ends we had, and how many false suspects, I was leaning back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, with Tony right next to me, mirroring my pose.

Except his chair is spinning in lazy circles, and he is singing 'It's a wonderful world', painfully off key, under his breath. And, I'm sure he's aware, he is annoying Ziva. In fact, her hand has been inching towards her drawer full of knives the more he sang.

I flicked my gaze to McGee to find him staring at Ziva. They exchange a look I can clearly read as 'Just kill him already', and Ziva begins to open her drawer.

Luckily for Tony, Gibbs appears before Ziva has it all the way open. Morgan and Spencer are with him, odd.

Gibbs gets his stuff from his desk and all of us pop up, desperate for something to do and hopefully he tells us we can come.

After looking around at us with a quick glance, he barks out, "Kiley, come on. We're going to Montoya's Restaurant."

I get my bag and move to follow him. Morgan begins to follow behind me, but Spencer catches his arm and he speaks so quietly I don't catch it.

"Take care of her." He pleaded.

Morgan grinned at him and patted his hand before replying, "Sure thing, Pretty Boy."

Then runs after us towards the elevator.

Spen stands for a moment, just watching us go, before he begins to go back to the conference room.

NCIS

I sighed and leaned against a table in the kitchen.

Surprisingly, after meeting Gibbs, the Montoya's have no qualms about at least asking their employees some questions. Even more so because it's 10:30 and no customers will grace their doors for a while.

Morgan grinned at me and asked, "What's the matter, mini genius?"

I looked up at him. "Mini genius? Really?"

He shrugged, giving me a goofy grin, "I'm still working on it. You are smart, so I'll probably give you a nickname with that basis."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm not as smart as Spen. He graduated highschool at the age of 12, and college soon after. I'm still in college at the age of 16. Tons of people could. Besides, 'Mini Genius' isn't exactly the best thing someone like you could think of, Morgan."

He grinned and slapped my shoulder playfully, "Alright then, I'll keep at it. Do you have any favorite bands? Play any instruments?"

I rolled my eyes, but replied, "Metallica, Green Day, Matchbox 20, Pentatonix, anything with a good rhythm really. I play the piano and violin, and am told I can sing. Does that suit your fancy?"

He pondered for a moment, then shook his head, "Ah, I think of something, just you wait."

I smirked at him and shook my head, then turned to catch another employee that I hadn't talked to yet. He was on his way out the back door, maybe to take a smoke if his teeth said anything.

"Excuse me, sir? NCIS, would you mind answering some questions?" I called out to him.

He froze in what I could call terror, before bolting out the door.

My feet were moving before I fully comprehended what was going on, and I heard Morgan thundering behind me.

We burst out the door and into an alleyway. I saw the man bolting down one end and followed after him quickly.

I had always loved running. I felt free when I ran. Untouchable. Fearless. However, that being said, I had never really thought that I'd be chasing someone else.

I bolted after the man, and quickly saw a dead end coming up. I felt myself grin, he couldn't get away now. Even if he tried to fight, Morgan was behind me, and he had a gun.

I slowed as I neared the terrified man, and Morgan shouted, "FBI! Hands in the air!"

The man slowly lifted his trembling hands and stared as us fearfully. He had a light build, skinny and didn't hardly have any muscle, and if I had to guess, I'd say that he was about 5'4, and 23.

Suddenly, his gaze shifted from us, to behind us, and he dropped his head, murmuring something I strained to hear. Gibbs must have heard the racket and come to see what happened.

Finally, out of frustration more than anything, I stepped forward, desperate to hear what he was saying.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeated over and over again. Why was he sorry? For running?

I turned to ask Morgan what he thought, and why he wasn't moving, only to be greeted by a horrifying sight.

Morgan had a mountain of a man behind him, with his arm wrapped around Morgan's throat, and literally lifting him off the ground with his sheer size and brute strength.

I had seen the man in the restaurant, his name was Peter Sanchez, and Morgan had talked with him.

He had slimy black hair, dull blue eyes, scarred skin, and muscles that put the Rock to shame. He was a hulking brute at 6'9, and he had glowered at anything and everything. I had just assumed he was having a bad day.

That's what I get for assuming things.

Should've made McGee check backgrounds when we checked the names.

Shouldn't have assumed it was Gibbs.

I held up my hands, I could see Morgan's lips turning pale, and his struggles were getting weaker.

"Stop, if you hurt him, you'll have the FBI on your tail." I spoke with confidence that I didn't feel, but almost crumpled with relief as the mountain man's grip loosened enough to let Morgan take a few shaky breaths.

"Get outa here kid." He choked.

Peter scowled at him, and rammed his fist into Morgan's skull hard enough to make Morgan's eyes roll back and close, and he went limp.

I felt my breath catch, with his huge fist, and with the amount of power he had, Morgan could be dead.

With the giant's arm in the way, I couldn't see if he chest was moving.

Everything got dizzy around me, Morgan could be dead. He could be dying.

I had to do something!

But before I could, I saw metal glint in the sunlight out of the corner of my eye, and briefly remembered the other man I had been chasing, before a metal pipe rammed into the side of my head, and I crumpled to the ground as darkness surrounded my vision.

The last thing I saw was the giant dropping Morgan into an unmoving heap, and lumbering towards me. Then my eyes closed, and I saw no more.


	17. Chapter 17

**I feel kind of guilty after the last chapter, I can be devious sometimes :D, so I'll start his chapter out with Spencer's POV. Then again, you might be madder cause you want to know what happens to Kiley…**

 **Oh well!**

 **Leave me a review either way.**

 **ST**

Spencer's POV:

I stared dumbly at the phone in my hands. I must have been dreaming. If Morgan were here I'd ask him to pinch me.

I couldn't have heard what I thought I just did.

Gibbs couldn't have called me, saying that Morgan was being taken to the hospital with blunt force trauma to the head, and Kiley missing with blood on the concrete.

It couldn't be possible.

Morgan promised he'd take care of her. That had meant he should've taken care of himself too.

My sister was missing, and the man I had grown to accept as my brother was in the hospital.

I felt like falling over.

Garcia must have seen my shocked face, because she quipped in an overly happy voice that did not fit the situation, "What's wrong, sugar? Who called?"

I turned towards her voice in shock. I managed to find my voice after she looked at me worriedly, "Morgan is….. He's on his way to the hospital with severe head damage. Kiley is….. Kiley is…. Gone."

My voice sounded hollow.

Garcia's face showed her growing alarm, and she stood up. "Well? What are we waiting for!? Come on, we need to get Gibbs. We need to tell everyone. We need to get to Morgan. And we need to find Kiley!"

She took me by the arm and yanked me to my feet.

Her outburst had startled the entire team, and they were looking at us with appraising looks.

They were profilers, so it wasn't surprising that they caught onto us quickly.

Hotch stepped forward, asking, "What's wrong?"

Rossi wasn't far behind him.

I took a deep breath, still processing what I had just learned, and said, "Gibbs just called me. He said that he was interviewing some employees, Morgan and Kiley followed an employee out of the building, when they didn't return, he went looking for them. He found Morgan, bleeding and unconscious from an injury to his head. When he looked for Kiley, all that he found was a small puddle of blood, and a thin trail leading to the alley's exit.

"Morgan is on his way to the hospital, and Gibbs' team are already on their way to the scene to try and find Kiley."

If I spoke faster than normal, no one commented.

Instead, they sped into motion.

"Rossi, you, JJ, and Prentiss meet with Gibbs' team at Montoya's restaurant. Do whatever you can to find out who took Kiley. Garcia, Reid, we will be going to the hospital. When Morgan wakes up, if he doesn't have too severe a head injury, he may be able to shed some light as to who took Kiley and why. We do not know if our unsub is the one who has her, and will assume," He flicked his eyes towards me, "That he does. All of our efforts go towards finding Kiley. We have three days at minimum. Garcia, try to track down Kiley's phone. With hope, they haven't turned it off yet, or taken the battery out.

"Go."

With Hotch's words, everyone left, and I found myself being tugged along by Garcia.

Criminal Minds

We got to the hospital, and Garcia wrestled me into a waiting chair as Hotch located Morgan.

She began typing on her computer faster than I'd thought she previously could, and I just sat there, staring numbly at the ground.

My little sister. The girl who had never failed to make me smile when I wanted to throttle her. The girl who loved running. Who would stumble home after a day at the park with scraped knees and teary cheeks. The girl who would hang off my every word. Who would beg me to read her 'The Hobbit' when mom couldn't. Who begged me to teach her piano, so she could play for us after I broke my hand.

The girl who had managed to get the affection from one of the most difficult men to shake, unless you were Jack, that I knew. The girl who had managed to gain the affection of the military veteran who, when he accepted someone into his 'pack', protected his people with every fiber of his being.

The same girl who had managed to prevent these same men from killing each other for the past week.

The girl who could joke and throw movie references around with Morgan. Who had actually asked Rossi to teach her how to cook someday. Who Garcia had adopted and promised to take her out to ice cream with gusto. Who had bonded with Emily and JJ over music and romance novels. Who had gotten Gibbs' entire team on her side in less than a few days.

The girl who would probably be the only girl to have my heart in her hand.

And she was gone.

My little sister, who I was supposed to protect and teach, was missing.

And the same person who took her, had hurt Morgan.

I wanted to be angry with him. I had told him to take care of my sister, and also himself, yet, Kiley was missing, and he was in the hospital.

But I knew, that once he woke up, the guilt would kill him. If he didn't have severe amnesia. Which was a really, really high chance.

I jumped when I felt a hand land on mine, and looked up at Garcia.

She was trying to comfort me. But it wasn't working.

"We'll find her Spence. Morgan will wake up, and he'll tell us who took her. We will find her, sugar. Don't worry. She's got, not only Hotch, but also big scary papa bear Gibbs looking for her. Not to mention all of us. We'll find her. She's strong. She'll be fine. And I'll take you out for so much ice cream, you two won't be skinny anymore." She spoke in low, soothing tones. But I couldn't find myself to believe her words.

I just nodded to her and stared resolutely at the ground until Hotch walked back to us.

"I've been given directions to Morgan's room. Due to his head injury, he doesn't require surgery, but they will be keeping him here for a few days to ensure that he'll be alright. He's hasn't woken up yet, but we can go in and sit with him. Garcia, have you found anything on Kiley yet?" Hotch spoke with his normal clipped tone, and anyone who didn't know him would believe he was unaffected by the whole thing.

But I knew him. There was a tone of guilt, and worry hidden by his confident voice.

Garcia stood up, yanking me to my feet, and replied, "No. Whoever took her must have took the battery out of her phone."

Hotch nodded, and we began to walk through the halls.

I still felt numb. Devoid of emotion. But at the same time, I wanted to scream, to cry, to shake my fist and ask why.

But I just kept walking.

Criminal Minds.

Tony's POV:

When Gibbs called us, I didn't want to believe him. No way Kiley could be gone. Not with Ziva teaching her ninja moves. She would have fought back.

But I had ran to the elevator with McGee and Ziva at my heels despite my doubt that she gone.

Now, we were standing in an alleyway, taking pictures, and attempting to ignore the fact that the girl who had wormed her way into our team in less than a day, was gone.

I stood up and was about to walk over to Gibbs, when Ziva called out, "I have found something."

I turned towards her to find her holding an iron bar in her hand. One end had blood on it. If I had to guess, probably Morgan's. Gibbs said that he was on his way to the hospital now with blunt force trauma and a high probability of possible brain damage.

Ziva put the bar into a bigger evidence bag and said, "Perhaps whoever struck Morgan with this left their fingerprints. Abby should be able to tell us more."

"Tell you more about what?" Came Abby's voice.

I jumped and whirled around.

Abby was out of her lab, without a Caff-Pow, and stalking towards us with a murderous expression on her face.

I almost regret telling McGee to call her.

Ziva simply held out the bag her, and Abby took it quickly before spinning around and stomping back out of the alley, growling, "I'm going to kill someone."

I believed she would.

If Gibbs didn't first.

Or Ziva.

McGee even, was feeling murderous.

And so was I.


	18. Chapter 18

**Okay, now, for a few chapters I'll be swapping between Spencer's POV, Tony's, and Kiley's. Maybe a few other characters as well.**

 **But, in case any of you really want to find out what happened to Kiley, here you go.**

 **ST**

Kiley's POV

I woke up to an insistent ache in my head, and groggily forced my eyes open slowly.

What greeted me made me want to fall back in oblivion.

I was in a dimly lit room that smelled like soil, and blood. I could make out various pointy objects sitting on a table next to me.

And I was tied to a table. There were ropes binding my wrists to the legs of the table, ropes on my legs, a rope spread across my waist, and one across my shoulders.

I fought the growing panic and queasiness and tried to think logically.

What should I do?

I flexed my still booted feet slightly, and almost cried with relief when I felt the hard weight in my boot, signaling that I still had my knife. Little things.

If I could get to that, I might be able to cut through my bonds. But first, I'd have to get extremely flexible, fast.

But before I could even start struggling, I heard the creak of an old wooden door, and soon, the little dingy hole I was in was flooded with light as an upstairs door was opened.

Two people walked down the steps, and my brain vaguely supplied that one of them was Peter Sanchez. Wait. Hang on….

He hit Morgan, didn't he?

The panic came back in full force and I had to physically prevent myself from whimpering. I had seen him fall. He could be dead.

I should have paid more attention!

The two men walked over to me, and I fought to remain calm, or at least look like I wasn't fazed by any of this. My brain supplied Gibbs' cold and collected features, and I forced mine to match that memory.

Gibbs. He would find me. Spencer and Gibbs wouldn't stop until they found me. Neither would any of the others.

I'll be fine. Ziva told me to keep my cool in situations that seem impossible to overcome. So, if I keep cool, bide my time, and try to escape, I'll get out. Even if the others don't find me in time, I will get out.

"Well, look who's awake?" The smaller man sneered.

Wow. That was so different from earlier.

I mentally cursed myself. I'm such an idiot. It fits the profile. Someone who is intimidated by people he deems better than him. That's why they all showed signs of being restrained. Because, when they were in his element, they couldn't fight back. They couldn't scare him.

Maybe if I scare him, it would unnerve him enough and give me time.

I mentally started a 3 day count down. Assuming I hadn't been in here longer.

If the man in front of me had convinced Peter to do his dirty work, then that could be how he got his victims.

And the gun fit too. Because, if Peter wasn't there the day the Lieutenant died, then the man would've had to shoot his victim, and would have had no way to get him back to his personal torture chamber.

The man was small enough, weak looking enough, that he could lure the people in, and Peter could get them with his brute strength.

That also shows as to why he waited until my back was turned before hitting me, he couldn't stand to do anything until while I was looking at him. I had towered over him with my lean, 5'9 build.

Now though, he was the one who towered over me. Probably lowered the table to feel taller. Stupid coward.

He slammed his hands down next to my ribs and snarled at me, "Don't feel so tough now, do you?" I forced myself not to flinch, and instead smirked at him.

"Are you kidding? This is pathetic. First, you're a coward, refusing to even look me in the eye. But now, now that I'm the one tied down, you can act however you want. How could I be scared of someone like you?" I drawled back, forcing my voice not to quiver.

This was just like facing Vance. Or Hotch. It was fine. I was fine. Just keep calm. Breath.

A sharp pain on my cheek made my head whip to one side. He had just backhanded me.

I blinked stars out of my ears and forced myself not to cry out as the next hit landed on my ribs. Even though he didn't have much muscle, gravity and momentum ensured that he at least bruised my ribs.

I bit my tongue to stop from whimpering, and instead, glared at my tormentor.

He huffed angrily, he was breathing hard, and his eyes held the gleam of insanity.

"Fine. You won't be scared of me? Fine. You can be scared of my cousin." He spat.

I gave a dramatic wince, then said, "Please, Say it. Don't spray it."

That earned me another backhand. Then the man gestured to his cousin and growled, "Do whatever you want. But I want her bloody by this evening."

Peter gave me a low look, and then lumbered over to the table full of weapons.

I bit my tongue, preparing myself for the pain yet to come.

NCIS

Tony's POV:

We had gotten back to NCIS HQ, and were trying everything we could think of to find out where Kiley was.

The restaurant owners had so kindly given us the names of the two men who had taken Kiley, and McGeek was currently running their names through a data base.

Ziva was twirling a knife around in her fingers as she waited for him to finish, and the lethal look hadn't left her face since we got here.

Gibbs was pacing back and forth angrily in front of his desk, and if looks could kill, we'd all be dead. And so would that poor computer of McGeek's.

The BAU team had also crowded into the bullpen, and were attempting to help.

A few of them were on phones, talking to anyone they could.

A few of them had stayed at the restaurant to further question the employees.

And a few of them were at the hospital with their wounded teammate. Including Kiley's older brother.

Finally McGee leapt up from his desk, victory clear on his face. "Got them!"

He grabbed the clicker from my desk and brought up several pictures and files up on the big screen.

Those of us who were here, crowded around him.

"Ok. So the big one is Peter Sanchez. His record is long and slightly horrifying. He went to juvie when he was 12 after strangling his father. He stayed there for several years before being put into the custody of his Aunt, and his much weaker cousin. Arthur James. He doesn't have a record. Except for his hospital record. His father was abusive to both him and his mother, and by the time he was 9, he had already been in the hospital numerous times due to broken ribs, legs, fingers, and arms.

"Peter got into a gang at the young age of 16, and from there, several robberies, murders, and maiming happened in the town where they lived, but no one could prove he was a part of it.

"Arthur kept himself out of trouble, and after a few years, got Peter out of the gang and they both went to college. Peter went to the same college as Arthur, took the same classes, and shared a dorm with him. People who know them said that you couldn't find one, without finding the other.

"They have both been to all of the locations where the murders took place.

"But, what I'm sure you're all listening for, is their address."

McGee listed of the number, and immediately Gibbs was barking at all of us to get our things.


	19. Chapter 19

Spencer's POV:

I sighed and leaned wearily against Morgan's bed. It looked so wrong seeing him lying there with an oxygen mask on his face, completely still, and not teasing me about something.

Hotch had gotten a call from Prentiss a few minutes ago, and she said that the team was on their way to a suspects house. Peter Sanchez, and his cousin, Arthur James.

Garcia had pulled up footage on the outside of the Restaurant, and, though there wasn't a camera in the alley, there was a camera on the back door of the restaurant. So we knew who had taken Kiley, and put Morgan in a near coma. We just had to find them.

Hotch had told me that I was to stay with Garcia and Morgan. Probably because he didn't want me to kill one of the unsubs. And if I was being honest, I probably would.

Now that I had gotten over the initial shock of learning that my sister was gone, I was worried. Beyond worried. Angry, guilty, sad, hopeless, and worried.

I stood up with a sudden need to do something, and began pacing in front of Morgan's bed with Garcia looking at me worriedly.

"They've got the house, sweet cheeks. They'll find Kiley. You'll see." She tried to reassure me, but I could barely hear her.

Instead, I heard Kiley's voice, teasing me.

 _Oh come on, brother dearest, relax a bit! This is_ _ **me**_ _we're talking about, they'll probably tire of my insistent talking and give me back within the hour. Stop pacing. Whenever you paced it drove mom mad. And it was you who taught me the horrible habit by the way. So stop pacing. Walking in circles will not help the situation. Sit down. Take a breath. Think about what you can do. It was you who taught me that. Distance yourself from the situation. Think logically. What are your options? Run through them. Make it work._

 _Calm down._

I took a shaky breath. If Kiley was here, she'd be saying that. Repeating it over and over again. She had never had a panic attack, but she had seen me in the middle of one. After the whole highschool thing, the panic attacks got all too frequent, only letting up during the summer when Kiley was there.

She had gotten very good at calming me down, singing softly to me and carding her fingers through my hair until I calmed down. Then she'd joke _Honestly, you're the older one! You'd think this would be reversed! Why I help you anyway is beyond me, you might be more annoying than you're worth._

But it was always a joke.

Right now, I wished that she was next to me, calming me down the only way that I really responded to. Instead of being locked up by some maniac.

The probability of us finding her before the three days was higher now that we knew who took her, and where their house was. But I wouldn't allow the statistics playing in my head to get better until I saw Kiley for myself.

And the way that things were going, that might not be for another few hours. Hopefully. That was the best case scenario. The worst case scenario was creeping into my thoughts, that I might not see Kiley well again. That she'd be found, clutching a black rose, and I'd never see my little sister smile again.

I refused to even entertain that idea. Kiley would be fine. She was far too stubborn to not be.

CRIMINAL MINDS

Tony's POV:  
We had looked through the entire house, and nothing showed up. It didn't even look like either of the suspects had been here in at least a day.

I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face and stood up from the desk I had been searching.

Ziva appeared through the doorway and looked at the mess of a bedroom with disinterest. Her gaze flicked towards me, then she held something out in her hand.

It was a piece of paper, with a picture of a cabin. A cabin in the woods.

I took it from her and skimmed over the document. It stated that the cabin had belong to Arthur's mother, and she had given it to him when she died.

"Do you think they would take Kiley there?" Ziva asked in a clipped tone. It had been the most she'd said all day.

I narrowed my eyes at the picture and replied, "It's secluded enough. We should check it out. Let's go tell the Boss."

I stalked out of the bedroom with Ziva on my heels, and nearly ran into Agent Prentiss.

She looked at us in surprise, until I showed her the document and let her read through it with impatience.

"Kiley could be here." She said simply.

I nodded and took the paper back, continuing to walk in search of Gibbs.

"Boss! We got something!" I called out to the house.

When I rounded into a living room, Gibbs was there, striding towards me with Agent Rossi and Agent Jareau. He looked at me questioningly, he had said less than Ziva had other than giving orders, and in return, I pressed the paper into his hand.

McGee quickly appeared and looked over the Boss' shoulder.

"I can find out where that is once we get back to NCIS." McGee noted after a minute.

Gibbs snapped around, pushed the paper into McGee's hand, and barked, "Well? Let's go!"

It was already nightfall, but it didn't matter, we need to find Kiley, or none of us would get any sleep tonight.

NCIS

Kiley's POV:

I groggily forced my eyes open, and was greeted by a very dim room. I don't remember all of what happened earlier, but I did remember pain. And screaming. Lots of screaming. Some small part of me was a bit embarrassed for screaming for so long and so loud, the other part told the first part to can it and shut up.

I tried to move, only to whimper pathetically as pain shot up in my entire body. Everything hurt, and nothing was saved from the pain. My head ached and pounded, either to the numerous knocks to the head, or from blood loos, I didn't care and was too tired to try and figure it out.

A part of my brain whispered that the exhaustion was a bad thing. A really bad thing. It meant I had lost too much blood already.

Wasn't there something else? Besides the pain. I was going to do something before the torture had begun. What was I going to do?

I tried to think about it, but the headache came back full force and I moaned slightly. My throat ached from screaming myself hoarse, and I was extremely thirsty.

The bastard, Peter something, had taken a knife to my torso, my shoulders, my arms, and my legs. Where he had stabbed my stomach, avoiding any major organs surprisingly, he had carved out things on my legs. No words from what I could tell, just thin curved symbols.

He had even carved out something on my face. It went from the left side of my nose, and traveled along my already injured cheekbone. Then, as if that wasn't enough, he had brought the knife down quickly on my left ear, right near the top. And that was something that would never heal.

I could feel that something was wrong with my collarbone, Peter had hit it several times, and I knew that I had a few broken ribs. It hurt to breath, and I could only fervently hope that they would not puncture a lung, as if I didn't have enough problems already.

Besides the carvings, my legs were more or less left alone.

My leg…. Something was there… Something I had to remember…. It was important.

Probably had a concussion if the lapse in memory was any indication.

I was so tired…

"Don't you dare close those eyes, proby!" I harsh voice barked out next to me. An unfamiliar voice.

I jumped, and instantly regretted it as more pain flared up.

"Don't scare her, Franks. We want her to live, not get a heart attack because of you." An annoyed female voice complained.

I looked towards the sound, despite the pain it erupted in my shoulder and bruised neck (Near strangulation), and saw, to my surprise, three people standing near me.

One was a grumpy looking man with gray hair and a gray beard. His eyes were calculating and somewhat cold.

The girl next to him had dark hair, and my confused brain couldn't pin it as brown or black. Her face was kinder than the man's, and so were her eyes, though no less calculating.

The last woman had red hair, and a slight scowl on her face. She had her arms crossed and was glaring at the man, Franks or something.

Franks' scowl deepened and he huffed, then glared at me. "What do ya think you're doing, proby? Do you want to die here or something?!"

I tried to shake my head, but it refused to move now that I had forced it to.

"No." I croaked. I winced at the sound of my own voice and cleared my throat and tried again, "No. And why are you calling me proby?"

Franks rolled his eyes, "What? Gunny taking in idiots now? Proby! As in Probationary Agent! That's what you are, ain't ya?"

I furrowed my brow and stared at him, "Agent of what?"

Franks rolled his eyes again, muttering under his breath. "NCIS! What else?"

Before I could tell him I wasn't an agent, and to ask him what he was doing here and could he please help me out, the red head spoke. "Forget Franks, he's grumpy now that he's dead."

I tasted something bitter in my mouth and yelped out, "Dead? Does that mean…"

The dark haired girl shook her head before I could finish. "No. But not for lack of trying. You have to get out of here. Gibbs' has already lost too many people. Are you going to make him lose you too?"

My mouth opened and closed, and my mind was confused and wanted to know just what the hell was going on.

"No." I answered after a moment.

The girl's eyes lit up, "Then you have to fight to get out."

I coughed pathetically before asking, "How?"

Franks scoffed angrily and gestured towards my boot, "How do you think? With the toothpick you have in your boot maybe?"

I furrowed my brow again and answered with as much annoyance as I could muster, "It isn't a toothpick. It's a knife. Ziva gave it to me…." I trailed off. That's what I was trying to remember. The knife. The knife that could get me out of here. Oh. Oops.

Franks was done waiting for me catch on, "Yes. With the thing in your boot you could so conveniently use to cut yourself out. But, maybe we're wrong and you do want to die and give Gunny another reason to hate himself."

The dark hair girl nodded solemnly, "Yeah. McGee and Tony too."

"And Ziva." The red head quipped.

I shook my head, my mouth very dry, "Of course I'm gonna get out. I wouldn't do that to them."

Was it my imagination, or did all of them look proud?

Franks stepped forward and growled, "Then you might wanna start getting to that knife, Proby. And you are a proby, you just don't know it yet."

The other two nodded, and with sudden strength, I began wiggling, trying to get to my boot, and successfully ignoring the pain.

As I worked, the three would give me encouragement. Franks would threaten me with something along the lines of 'Gonna tell Gunny that you ain't a fighter', while the red head would remind me that I was, and needed to keep trying.

The dark haired one just kept watching me, smiling encouragingly when the pain got to be too much.

It seemed like days, years, but I nearly sobbed with relief as my fingers brushed against my boot. I hadn't won yet though, and Franks didn't fail to point that out.

I continued reaching, straining my already injured shoulder, until my fingers finally skimmed the hilt of my knife. I dug a bit deeper, and nearly crowed with victory when my fingers wrapped around the hilt.

I tugged it out and allowed my screaming muscles to stretch back out as I began to cut the bonds on my wrist. They were already bleeding because of repeated abuse, but I needed to get them cut.

I could get out of this. I could. And I would.

 **Sapphire here! So, for this chapter, I felt as though Kiley need the encouragement to fight back. I read an Headcanon a while ago, that said that Gibbs could see the ghosts of the dead. Hence how he could have conversations with Mike. I thought that maybe Kiley could inch towards that too.**

 **In so many cultures, it's believed that when you've had a brush with death, you can see certain souls of those passed. Kiley is bleeding to death, and had been giving up, so, she could see the three that I mentioned.**

 **I said that one was Franks, wanna take a guess as to who the other two are? Let's think, who do we know that has bright red hair and a 'bite me' attitude? And who do we know who has dark brown hair, and an open attitude? Both of whom are dead. Both of whom knew the NCIS team we know and love very well.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Soon, the rest of the NCIS team will figure out where Kiley is, and they'll try to find her. Obviously.**

 **Please leave a review! It makes me happy to hear from you guys, and pushes me to write more.**

 **ST**


	20. Chapter 20

_Several hours earlier…._

Tony's POV:

McGee was typing very quickly on one of Abby's computers, with Abby right next to him tapping just as fast.

Abby hadn't even reached for the Caff-Pow next to her.

Gibbs was up talking to the Director, Ziva was sitting in a chair next to while we waited for McGee to finish, and the BAU team had gone to the hospital to check on their team member with specific instructions to call them when we found where the cabin was so they could go there with us.

I spun the chair I was in around in circles. Thinking about this morning. Gah. It had just been this morning too, hadn't it? When I had been deliberately trying to annoy McGee and Ziva by singing 'It's a wonderful world' off key. Kiley had looked slightly annoyed for a bit, then she had gotten a mischievous glint in her eye. Like she had been thinking about joining in. Then she and Gibbs had pranced off with Agent Morgan to their doom.

It was already 8:00pm, I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, but realized that I didn't really care. I probably wouldn't until Kiley was singing ridiculous songs with me to annoy everyone else.

Based on what I had observed, and what Ducky, Abby, and Ziva told me, it seemed that Gibbs had practically thrown Kiley head first into the life of an NCIS agent, and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want Kiley to become a member of NCIS. But if, when, she did, Gibbs would probably get her into our team.

First we had to find her. Then we could think about recruiting the teen.

I jumped, nearly falling out of my chair, when Abby crowed victoriously, "I got it!"

I leapt to my feet, closely followed by Ziva, and we looked over Abby's shoulder to see the address and location of the cabin.

I quickly kissed Abby's forehead, "Great work Abbs." Then called out to Ziva and McGee, "Come on! We've got an annoying friend to save!"

I turned on my heel and rushed towards the elevator, picking up my phone to call Gibbs. "McGee, call the BAU team. They'll want to know." I barked as I dialed Gibbs' number and hit the button on the elevator.

He picked up after one ring, "What?" He growled. His temper had been worse since Kiley vanished.

"We found the cabin Gibbs. It's nine hours away from here, but we found it." I said slightly breathless. My heart was pounding, Kiley had to be there. I didn't let myself think about what would happen otherwise.

Silence was on the other end, then Gibbs barked out, "Meet me at the car." Then he hung up.

McGee nodded to me and said, "The BAU said they're on their way now."

I nodded, and waited impatiently for the elevator to get us to where we needed to go.

NCIS

Spencer's POV:

I lunged forward, catching Hotch's sleeve, "I'm going." I said with as much conviction I could muster.

We'd just received a call from Agent McGee, stating that they had found the cabin where Kiley probably was.

Hotch opened his mouth to reply, probably to tell me that I definitely wasn't, I was emotionally compromised, I couldn't go. But I beat him to it, "I know that I'm not in the best state of mind right now, Hotch. Morgan is on the bed, refusing to wake up, and my sister is being held by maniacs. _I know._ But she is my sister. **My** _sister,_ and I'm supposed to protect her. So I'm going. And there isn't anything you can do to stop me."

After a few seconds of him just staring at me, and the entire team (minus Morgan) staring at us in shock, Hotch dipped his head.

I allowed a small sigh of relief escape, before I was hurrying after him. I would get to Kiley.

Criminal Minds

 _9 hours later…._

Kiley's POV:

It seemed like hours, but I finally sawed through one of the ropes, also cutting my abused wrist more.

I bit my lip to keep from crying out, and winced when I drew more blood from it. I had bitten it too many times, and it was not happy with me.

Slowly, but surely, I sliced through the rope on my shoulders, then on my waist.

Once those were gone, I forced my arm to stretch over my chest and began to cut the bonds to my other wrist.

After I cut my wrist again, I was able to push myself up. I locked my jaw and bit my cheek to keep from crying out as my abused muscles and bones screamed in pain. The action caused blood to flood my mouth, but I bit harder.

When I managed to get into a sitting position, I panted, attempting to get my breath back. That shouldn't have winded me so much, it was something I had done without thought for years. But, even if I didn't have any of the other injuries, broken ribs weren't something to mess with.

I hoped that moving around wouldn't cause my lungs to be pierced, as if I didn't have enough problems. As soon as I was free completely, I would have to run.

The thought alone was enough to make me want to cry. If I could barely sit up, how could I run the way I had before? With speed, surprising agility, and a free spirit.

But I would have to.

Or I would die.

That was not an option I wanted to take. I was not going to die here, I had to get back to my brother, to Gibbs, to my new friends, and I had to make sure that Morgan wasn't dead. I refused to believe he was dead. So I had to make it back. If only to tell him that it wasn't his fault I was here. It was mine, and mine alone.

With renewed determination, I reached forward, switching the knife from my right to my left since that shoulder was ok, and began to saw through the ropes at my leg.

Soon, I was completely free. That was the easy part. Now for the getting up and running away with my life part. Piece of cake…

Caaakke. I'm hungry. And thirsty. And tired. What was I doing? Oh. Escaping. I was in trouble. Fear. Was that the right thing? Defiance? That one sounded better.

I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts to cooperate. This was ridiculous. But, then again, I hadn't had a major concussion before. Or massive blood loss. Or…

Shut up brain. That's enough. I don't need an entire list of things that was wrong with me. I was perfectly fine. Capable of walking, _and_ running, thank you very much.

 _So shut up._

That sounded suspiciously like Gibbs' voice. Figures.

I swung my legs over the side of the table, and pushed myself up before giving myself time to recover.

I stumbled, and my brain was deciding that it was time to clock out for the day, and try again tomorrow.

But, before it could shut off, a harsh voice barked, "Come on! You're up! So move!"

I was reminded of my, maybe dead, maybe hallucination, companions, and opened my eyes.

All three of them were staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to move.

I groaned and muttered, "You know, it would be really nice if you guys could actually help me walk, rather than yelling at me."

But, despite my whining, I tightened my grip on the knife, and staggered towards the staircase.

Franks opened his mouth, probably to reprimand me for complaining, but I held up a shaky hand, "Yes, I know, no whining. Whining is for quitters. I'm well aware thank you. But see? I'm moving. I'm walking. So please, shut up."

His mouth closed with a snap, and he stared at me in surprise. I smirked tiredly at him, "What? No one ever tell you to shut your trap before? Pity. Someone should've."

The girls both smiled at him smugly, and the dark haired one beamed at me, "I can see why Tony likes you. You can keep up with his 'insults' easily. And yet, you are only working at half capacity right now. It'd be fun to see what you and Tony could get into once you are healthy again."

I smiled at her, "Well, I'll be sure to argue pointlessly with him later, just for you."

She nodded her thanks, and I vowed that I would get out of here, if only to tell Morgan 'no pity parties' and to argue pointlessly with Tony about something stupid. Like his micky mouse stapler he has in his desk that he thinks I don't know about.

I staggered towards the staircase, only to pause as I heard the telltale signs of a key being entered into a lock.

I dived towards the wall next to the staircase, successfully hiding myself in shadows, and waited with my heart pounding.

The good thing about adrenaline, was that it quelled my screaming nerves, and I didn't feel so much of the pain anymore. My body was as tense as a coiled wire, and I was ready to run.

I took a deep breath, even though it irritated my ribs, and forced my senses to broaden. Another good thing about adrenaline, the senses were sharper. Thank you dopamine.

I could hear the door opening, then two sets of feet clomping down the stairs. A heavier set was first, followed by a lighter set. That meant that Peter was coming down first, and the man was coming after.

I mentally calculated Peter's height, and how high I would have to swing the knife to get him to leave me alone. I didn't want to kill anyone, but my job career path was currently set on the FBI or NCIS. I blame Gibbs. So I would have to eventually.

But I was 16. So maybe wounding would be better?

But that choice might get me killed.

Joy.

Was this what Spencer thought, every time he had to catch a killer?

This man was a killer, and if I didn't take him down first, he would kill one more. And maybe more after that. So it was me, or him.

And if it was me, I would never get to do the things I wanted to before I died. Plus, 16 was awfully young to go six feet under. It would kill Spencer, and he'd have to tell Mom. And it would make mom worse. My new friends would feel guilty. Guilty they didn't find me in time. Guilty I had been dragged into this at all.

I couldn't do that to them.

I took another deep breath, and pulled the knife to my chest. Momentum would help me, so would potential energy. All that I had to do was swing, and instinctively aim high enough, but still low enough, to get Peter out of the way, and preferably not kill him.

After him, I would hit and kick my way past the other annoying idiot.

I looked back at my silent companions, who were watching me with a mixture of fear, determination, and anger, and grinned at them.

It was a bloody grin, I could feel the blood in my mouth coating my teeth, and would probably never get the disgusting taste out. But it was a grin, nonetheless.

With that, I swung my knife around the corner, and heard a sickening thud as it met its target.


	21. Chapter 21

Kiley's POV:

I briefly spared Peter a glance (Not being able to see the look on his face) as my knife plunged into his chest before dragging him down the stairs and stepping out of the way.

Once he fell, I jumped over his body and leapt at the terrified smaller man. I grabbed his shoulders and threw him headfirst into the wall with so much force, he crumpled to the ground afterwards.

As much as I would have loved to relax now that that was done, he could wake up and find the gun at any moment. I had to leave.

I barreled up the stairs, relying on adrenaline more than anything to get me up them, and into a hallway. There was a door at the end of it, that had a window in it, showing me the outside forest.

I rushed towards that door, and opened it quickly. The moment it was open, and fresh air seeped into my senses, I sprinted off into the trees. If I could get past the trees, which provided suitable cover, and find a highway, then I was home free. First I had to not bleed to death, or stumble and fall.

I leapt over twigs and ducked under branches, never slowing my pace or looking back.

It was only when I heard the bang of a gunshot did fear begin to race through my veins again.

Tony's POV:

We pulled up to the cabin with the BAU team not far behind. Gibbs jumped out of the driver's seat, already pulling his gun out.

But as soon as we were out, and the BAU team pulled in, I saw someone sprint from the house at an extremely fast pace. Moments later, someone else exited, and they had a gun in their hands.

They fired once at the running person before Gibbs pulled the trigger of his own gun. The man crumpled to the ground, then Gibbs was tearing off into the trees after whoever was running.

I signaled to Ziva to go check the house with McGee, then took off after Gibbs.

Ziva's POV:

I followed Tony's orders and ran into the house with McGee close behind me, and the BAU team not far off. A few of them changed directions and moved towards the man Gibbs had shot.

I slowed my steps as I neared the door and held up my gun.

I entered the cabin slowly, and looked around.

I saw the door directly ahead of us, and motioned to McGee. He nodded, and we crept towards the door as the BAU spread out to search the house.

I pushed the door open, and was greeted by the sharp smell of blood and death.

I felt my heart rate increasing, and hoped Kiley was not to blame for the smell.

I tread down the steps carefully, but stopped when I saw the sight greeting me.

The 'mountain' man, Peter Sanchez, was on his back, with his mouth and eyes open, and a knife that I recognized was buried in his chest, right above his heart.

The knife that I gave Kiley was sitting in a dead man. Apparently she paid attention to my lessons.

I walked down the rest of the steps, took a quick glance at the rest of the room, which had obviously been used for torture, and kneeled down next to Peter.

His eyes stared up at me lifelessly, and the expression on his face was pure shock.

I felt momentarily proud of my protégée, before looking up at McGee and shaking my head.

"Kiley is not here. But this is her knife." I informed him.

McGee nodded and replied, "She was probably the one Gibbs is chasing through the woods. We need to go help them."

I nodded and stood up, following him quickly up the stairs. Yelling at the BAU team that Kiley wasn't here, and was instead running through the woods.

Kiley's POV:

I did what I had always done best. I ran. I pushed my already battered body more, and ran faster when I heard the gunfire. I needed to get away.

I spared a look over my shoulder, and saw through blurry vision that someone was chasing me, and was gaining fast.

Damn it! If I wasn't so injured, then I'd be able to run faster, and whoever was following me wouldn't be gaining on me.

I attempted to go faster, but a tree had other ideas. My foot found a root, and I catapulted forward, flipped, and landed on my back.

I stared up at the early morning sky in somewhat of a daze. The sunlight was just beginning to filter through the trees, the birds were chirping merrily, and if I wasn't bleeding to death, it would be a gorgeous sight.

Oh, who was I kidding? It _was_ a gorgeous sight. And, in all honesty, if I had to die, here wasn't the worst spot to welcome death. It was beautiful, and the air was clear, cold, and crisp. Even though I had trouble breathing, my lungs still savored the smell of the air.

The birds chirped happily, and I heard someone crash to the ground next to me.

A hand was on my face then, and I involuntarily flinched away, expecting pain.

But the hand was gently, and began to card through my hair softly. Someone was speaking, I could barely make out the words.

I forced myself out of the haze to finally hear,

"Come on kid, focus. It's ok. I got ya. Come on." The voice was soft, and gentle, and familiar.

Gibbs.

It was Gibbs' voice. He had found me.

I tried to say his name, but it came out as, "Gbs."

The blurry figure in front of me nodded. Then another one crashed down on my other side, and I grinned slightly, "Tny." I slurred ineffectively.

Tony nodded, then gentle hands were picking me up, forcing me into a sitting position. And the pain woke me up further.

I cried out, but they were relentless.

When I was sitting up straight again, I shook my head trying to get rid of the haze.

I succeeded partways, and was able to actually see the two people holding me up.

Tony's brow furrowed with worry, but I saw relief in his gaze. "You ok, Kiles? Sorry, stupid question."

I smirked at him despite the pain, and said quietly, "I'm glad you came."

They exchanged a look, and Gibbs smoothed my hair away from my face gently, "Never leave a man behind."

I nodded, "Noted. Thanks all the same. But guys? I'm ready to go home. Or, Gibb's home. Specifically, the wonderful bed in his guest room."

I vaguely wondered how I had come to think of Gibbs' house as home, but that thought left me quickly.

Gibbs smiled lightly, and his mask slipped for a fraction of a second, showing me pure relief. I smiled at him, and clumsily patted his hand where it rested on my uninjured shoulder.

"I'm fine, Gibbs. Or, will be. With sleep. And food. Coffee maybe. Sorry." I was getting hysterical. Shock probably. Or even the concussion.

Then I remembered and muttered, "Right. No sorry. Forget I said anything." That was going to take some getting used to.

I straightened suddenly, and gasped out, "Morgan. What about Morgan? I saw him fall. Is he okay?"

I began struggling to get my legs underneath me, but Gibbs steadying hand stopped me, "He's fine. In the hospital with a concussion. But he is fine."

I searched his face for any hint of a lie, then relaxed. If Gibbs said he was fine, he was fine. Gibbs wouldn't lie to me.

"Okay then, Kiles. Let's get you up so we can leave this little slice of hell." Tony chirped.

I nodded, and with his and Gibbs' help, I managed to stand shakily. I was leaning heavily against Gibbs' side, but I was up.

Tony carefully pulled my injured arm over his shoulder, and wrapped his other arm around my waist. Gibbs did the same thing on the other side and I fought back cries of pain. No sense in them feeling guiltier about helping me.

In between the two of them, I was able to stagger through the woods.

Soon, I heard shouts in front of us, and Tony shouted back, "We got her! She's over here!"

Then a figure came into view, and he was sprinting towards us quickly. I almost cried with the shear relief of seeing him. Spencer was running towards me, and he was still fast.

He was next to us quickly, and the moment he was in front of me, he started speaking.

"Kiley! Kiley, are you alright? What hurts? Is that blood in your mouth? If the two unsubs weren't already dead, I would go back and shoot them."

I smirked at him. Gibbs pushed Spencer to the side and we began walking again while I said, "Relax, Spen. I bit my cheek earlier. The blood is not from my lungs. I do have broken ribs, but they did not puncture a lung. I don't have too much irreversible damage, just my ear, so I'm fine. And talking waaaaaay too much."

I stumbled again, my brain finally calling it quits, and vaguely heard Gibbs say something. Tony let go of me slowly, then I felt weightless. I almost panicked, until I realized that I was being carried.

Gibbs was carrying me.

Whoa.

I vaguely recognized that I was safe. I was finally safe. I didn't have to worry anymore.

My brain had called it quits, and deemed that I could try again tomorrow. So, I closed my eyes, and relaxed.


	22. Chapter 22

Kiley's POV:

I woke up to the muffled sound of talking.

"Ibbs. We found other evidence at the cabin, including pictures of previous victims, but the biggest tipper that we had our two killers was the jarred hearts in the cabinet. Poor McUpchuck lost his breakfast after seeing them."

"Tony!"

"Relax, McUpchuck. It's a normal occurrence with you. I'm not offended."

A smack echoed through the air, and Tony squeaked, "Right boss, shutting up now."

I felt myself smirk, and before I could stop the words, I croaked, "Now that would be a sight to see."

I cracked open my eyes slowly to see three people in my room, and the faint sound of music.

The three people, Gibbs, McGee, and Tony, stared at me with open shock. Well, two out of three did. Gibbs just smirked at me and took a sip of coffee.

"Bout time you woke up." He huffed.

I just grinned at him and tried to sit up. That made pain erupt in my ribcage, and I collapsed back again, breathing heavily.

Tony was suddenly next to me, his hand resting gently at my shoulder, "Uh, no. Bad idea, Killey. They've got you hyped up on morphine sure, but you still don't want to move too much."

I huffed and scowled, but nodded dejectedly. Tony stared at me for a moment, before chuckling, "You look like a little kid right now. Hey! Don't look at me like that." He held up his hands in surrender, and I saw McGee roll his eyes.

McGee lightly held my hand and asked, "How do you feel?"

I groaned, "On one hand, I feel nothing thanks to pain killers. On the other hand, I feel like I got hit by a truck. How long have I been out?"

McGee smiled lightly at me and replied, "Not too long. A day and half. The doctors say that, even though you have a lot of healing bones, you might be able to leave within the week. They stitched up what they can, and you are healing quickly. So just give it time, then you'll be up and about in no time."

I nodded and swallowed hard. Numb pain radiated from my ribs more than anything, and I couldn't really feel my fingers because, I hope, the amount of pain killers numbing my shoulder. My head was pounding, but I couldn't be bothered. I was alive. I was bickering with Tony. And I was high as a kite.

I grinned goofily at McGee, "I'm alive." I informed him.

He smirked at me and ruffled my hair, "Yeah. You're alive. Please try to stay that way in the future. I'm glad you're okay, Kiles."

At that moment, someone else appeared in the room. It was Ziva.

When she saw me focusing blearily on her, she hastened to my side. "Kiles. How are you feeling?" She asked. Her fingers ghosted over my arm hesitantly, like she was afraid I'd break if she held on.

I gave her the brightest smile I could manage, and replied, "Alive."

She returned my smile and nodded, "That is a good thing."

I nodded, "Definitely. Also, thank you."

She looked at me in confusion, "For what?"

I grinned, "The knife."

Awareness dawned on her face, and she smiled warmly at me. "Yes, you put it to good use."

I looked down, "I don't remember much of what happened while I was there. But I remember swinging the knife. Did I….." My voice trailed off.

I really didn't remember much. It was just a haze of pain. I vaguely remember people talking to me, encouraging me to get out, but I didn't remember what they looked like, or their names, or even what they sounded like. I didn't even know if they were actually there.

What I do remember though, is the look on Peter's face as I buried the knife in his chest. Shock. Pain. Fear. That look would play out in my head for years, I was certain of that. But no one had to know.

I knew that no one could survive a wound like that, it was too close to his heart, and he would bleed out in minutes, if not seconds, without help. But I still wanted to know for certain.

Ziva's face darkened, and she nodded sagely. My breath hitched, even though I knew I had to get out of that hell, I hadn't meant to kill him.

Ziva's hand closed in mine, and she said, "You did not have much of a choice, Kiles. You defended yourself, and got out alive. That is what matters."

I nodded, swallowed hard, "I know. It's just… When I swung, I didn't want to kill him. But, I knew that if I didn't, he would kill me. So as much as I didn't want him to die, I wanted to get back to my family."

Her hand tightened momentarily, and she opened her mouth to say more, but Spencer plowed into the room then.

He had a coffee in his hand, and he looked like he hadn't slept.

I frowned at him, "Did you get any sleep?"

He dropped the coffee in surprise, but Gibbs caught it before it hit the ground. Spencer lunged towards me and sat at the edge of my bed, immediately pushing his hand gently through my hair.

"Kiley." He managed to get out, "You're awake."

His eyes looked red, and his voice was tight and dry. I smiled at him, "Oh, you know me. No matter how many people I piss off, I still manage to get myself out of sticky situations."

Spencer shook his head, and a hysterical sounding snicker erupted from his lips.

His shoulders shook with laughter, and he moved closer to me. He lightly kissed my forehead, "I know. I shouldn't be surprised at this point."

I smirked at him, "Well, you are my brother. And I've got them too."

My hand flopped weakly towards the other four in the room and I was awarded with a warm smile from all of them, even Gibbs. The looks I got were slightly _you tried_ kind of looks, I really didn't mind that.

I yawned, suddenly feeling impossibly tired. Spencer noticed and ruffled my hair, "Go to sleep, Kile. I'll be here when you wake up."

I shook my head stubbornly, "Can't. I just woke up."

Spencer rolled his eyes and reached into the bag at his side, pulling out a book that I immediately recognized.

He opened it to the first page, and before he could even open his mouth, I said, "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell. Nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole, with nothing to sit down on or to eat. It was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort."

Spencer nodded, allowing a small smile to open his face, "Yes. Reading this was the quickest way to get you to sleep."

I pouted childishly at him, making everyone in the room laugh, "You, brother dearest, are unfair. That's cheating."

He rolled his eyes at me, "Not if it's the easiest way to make you sleep. And even you can't block out the sounds of Tolkien."

Then he picked up where I left off.

And, true to his word, I couldn't stop my eyes from closing a page in.

NCIS  
Tony's POV:

After Spencer read a page of the book, Kiley nodded off. I'd have to remember that trick.

Spencer closed the book with a snap and turned to us.

He stood up and bit his lip. He looked so young like that, even though he acted mature, right now he looked like a lost kid. A very tall lost kid.

Then he held his hand out to Gibbs. His eyes flickered around the room nervously and Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"I should thank you. And apologize." Spencer began nervously.

I shared a surprised look with McGee. Spencer had been polite with all of us, but hadn't openly started a conversation with any of us. Least of all Gibbs.

Spencer continued, "My sister trusted you from the moment she met you. I assumed that it was misdirected, and childish. She was looking for someone to trust, when she didn't have anyone near her that fit that. I assumed that of all of you, despite Kiley's plea to give you all a chance. I was polite to you, only because of her. She agreed she wouldn't openly fight with my team, as long as I returned to favor with hers."

That shocked me more. Kiley had already shown interest in wanted to be in our team? Wow. We must have made a better impression than I thought.

"But," Spencer sighed and looked back at Kiley fondly, "You've proved me wrong. I thought you were a narcissist, Gibbs, and you didn't care about anyone but yourself. You protected and pitied those weaker than you.

"But you found her. You looked for her. You didn't give up on her. And, Kiley is a good judge of character. She always has been. That's partly my fault. She observed me, and was wary of people. So she studied them, and deemed whether they were good or not.

"She trusted all of you from the start, and I couldn't trust her because of my jealousy. And for that, I'm sorry. Also, thank you. Thank you for taking care of my sister."

He smiled lightly at us, then his face got harder, and he seemed to get taller. "However, Kiley seems to think, and no thanks to you," He glared pointedly at Gibbs, "That she will become an NCIS agent. So, I want your word, that you won't betray her trust. And you will take care of her. I don't think I could keep her away from D.C. if I tried, so I want your word that you will protect her."

Gibbs took his hand, and shook it firmly. "I always planned on it."

Spencer nodded to him, then turned to the rest of us and raised a threatening eyebrow. He looked like his team leader with that look.

I remember that this was the man who had numerous PhD's, graduated highschool at the age of 12, became an FBI at the age of 21, and had survived Kiley's enthusiasm for everything, and her sarcasm.

I nodded to him, "Never thought I wouldn't."

Ziva nodded seriously, "Indeed. You have my word, I shall protect Kiley with my life."

McGee was the last to nod, but he didn't say anything.

I didn't really blame poor McCoward. Agent Hotch was scary enough with that expression, and it looked odd on Spencer's face.

Spencer nodded, satisfied with our answers. Then he picked up his coffee from where Gibbs had put it down, and sat down next to Kiley.

I caught Gibbs' eye, and he jerked his head towards the hallway.

We all got the message and left the two siblings together.

 **Yay! They found Kiley! I decided to keep the whole 'villanious' plots down to a minimum. But, you get the idea, bad man got jealous of anyone he deemed better than him, got Peter to kidnap them (Or just shot them himself), then tortured them for days and finally cutting out their hearts as trophies. In other words, he was a sick cookie.**

 **I fully plan to complete this story. However, a few people told me that I could make a series out of it. But, to do that, I need ideas. And for ideas, I need your help. If you have an idea of what you want the next case to be like, either with the BAU or NCIS, tell me and I shall try to weave another story to go after this one. So, if you want to hear more tales of our brave little Kiley, tell me what tortures you want to put her (And everyone else) through next.**

 **Also, I know that Spencer's kind of weird. The way I'm writing him makes him out to be a little more confident than he is in the series, but bare with me. Big brothers usually act like that when they have someone to protect.**

 **Stay awesome guys. And never worry about the bad stuff, it's bad for your health…**

 **ST**


	23. Chapter 23

Kiley POV:

In the next week, I had numerous visitors. Abby came every day with pleasant chatter and awesome music. Ducky came with stories of his youth, and promises to play his cello with me once I was better. Gibbs came with coffee. Spencer with books. McGee with chess. And Ziva with fighting styles (I could only listen to her describe them right now).

But Morgan came every day, looking better and better. When he first woke up, the first words he said to me was 'I'm sorry'. It took me three days to convince him that it wasn't his fault, and could he shut up about apologies. I was just relieved that he was okay.

By the time the week was through, I was ready to break out. The nurses all knew me by my first name, and a few of them snuck me cookies when they could. But the reason all of them knew me so well was because I had staged three separate escape attempts. Gibbs caught me each time though.

I had always hated hospitals, and I doubted that would end any time soon.

Spencer's team had to leave now that Morgan was cleared to fly. I, however, was not. It would be a few more weeks before I was ready to fly back to Virginia. Spencer had grudgingly agreed to go back without me, and make sure that his apartment would be ready for me when I was cleared to go.

And, though he hadn't wanted to at first, he agreed that I could stay with Gibbs until I was cleared to fly.

I did have to complete my report for school still, and fill out the transfer papers. Spencer had already found a college that I could go to in Virginia so I could complete my final majors. Hopefully I still had the A I thought I would have. I did tortured after all.

So, now I was saying my temporary goodbye's to Spencer's team near their jet.

I gingerly returned Garcia's hug, my shoulder still was sore, and listened to her excited chatter.

"When you come to Virginia, you and I will go out and get ice cream! And we can have girl's nights when the rest of the team is out chasing bad guys! And talk about Doctor Who! Oh! I can't wait!" Garcia squealed happily.

I laughed lightly at her despite the pain in my still healing ribs, "I look forward to it, Penny."

Garcia had already convinced herself that when Spencer left on cases, I would stay with her at her apartment, and we'd binge watch tv shows and eat ice cream to our hearts contents.

She patted my cheek and stepped back, allowing JJ to come up and hug me lightly.

"I'm sure that Henry would love to meet you. He adores Spence." She told me honestly.

I grinned at her, "Well, we'll have to see about that. Kids and I don't really mix well."

She smirked at me, "That's what Spence said at first."

Emily replaced JJ then, and ruffled my hair, "Don't stay gone too long, K?"

I smiled at her and dipped my head, "You'd miss me too much." I replied cheekily.

She cuffed my head lightly with a smirk, then stepped away.

Rossi held out his hand to me and I smirked at him, "Seriously, old man?" Then wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

He tensed, then chuckled, returning the hug. "I'll forget the old man comment if you show me you can actually cook when I see you again."

Then he was gone, replaced by Hotch.

Before he could even offer me his hand, I hugged him tightly. I tried not to be surprised when he returned it, saying, "Don't stress yourself in the next few weeks. Focus on healing."

I nodded and backed away, "Yes sir." Though my words were said seriously, my eyes sparked with mischief.

He just smirked and shook his head.

Then Morgan was wrapping his arms around me. "Take care of yourself Kid. I still wanna go to a basketball game with you." That's right, I told him that I liked baseball and basketball. Now he won't leave me alone about it.

"I'll try, but only if take it easy too, Morgan." I replied.

He ruffled my hair affectionately and stepped back.

They all began walking towards the jet, and I was left facing my brother.

He stepped closer to me, then wrapped his arms around me.

"Please be careful. Don't get into any more trouble, or I'll tell mom so she can ground you." He said seriously.

I snorted, "Do you really think that she'd ground me, Spen? She'd probably congratulate me on my ability to make people mad."

Spencer sighed, "Point taken. I'll see you in a few weeks, okay?"

I nodded against his chest, "I'll be fine, Spen. Gibbs will make sure of that."

Another sigh, "I know. I love you."

I smiled, "I love you too. I'll see you soon."

He pulled away, smiled at me, then turned on his heel and strode away.

I watched him enter the jet. The door closed, then the jet began rolling down the runway.

I felt someone step up next to me, then Gibbs' arm was around my shoulders. "Ready to go?" He murmured softly.

I sighed as the plane rose up, "Yeah. I'm ready."

Gibbs steered me away and we began walking back to the parking lot.

He led me to his car, and opened the door for me. As much as my pride wanted to say that I could open the door myself, my wrist was still healing, and the stitches on my other hand hadn't been removed yet, and my hand stung when I tried to do anything with it.

I got into the car slowly, and Gibbs closed the door behind me.

He got into the driver's seat, and we sped out of the airport.

NCIS

I nursed a coffee as the elevator rose steadily. Since Gibbs' found out about my coffee addiction, whenever he went to get coffee, he would bring me one too. I didn't mind in the slightest.

The elevator dinged open, and Gibbs' and I stepped out, heading to the bullpen.

When we got there, Gibbs sat down at his desk and started on his reports.

The others were still working on their reports, so I drug my chair towards Ziva's desk and sat down, pulling out my laptop to complete my report for school. I still had 5 more pages to go, and that might take me a while.

I sighed, and began to type.

NCIS

What might have been hours later, Ziva tapped on my shoulder to get my attention.

I looked up at her, and she smiled at me, holding out something. I flicked my gaze towards it, and felt a smirk rise on my lips.

A black LARP Combat knife was in her hand, complete with a boot strap and sheath.

"Though I could not get your other knife back for you, I thought that you might want another one." She said.

I took the knife from her hand and pulled the knife out of the sheath. It wasn't too heavy, and perfectly balanced. But what got me was the fact that the blade had writing on it.

 _Semper Fidelis_

I looked up at her to find her smirking at me. "Do you like it?" She asked.

I smiled at her, "I love it. Thank you, Ziva. You didn't have to though."

She waved her hand, "I did not. But I wanted to. You are my friend, Kiley. I do what I can for my friends."

I smiled at her again, before bending down slowly to put the knife in my boot.

Tony surprised me though, because at that moment he leapt up and called out, "Beautiful words, Ziva! And on that note, I promised Kiley a movie night!"

"Ah, I agree with Anthony. A movie night would be pleasant." Ducky's voice drifted into the bullpen, and I looked up in surprise to find him, Jimmy, and Abby walking towards us with smiles on their faces.

McGee looked up at Gibbs hopefully, and Gibbs shrugged. "Fine with me."

I smiled brightly and Tony clapped his hands, "Great! Whose house though?"

Abby waved her hand, "I nominate Gibbs' house!"

We all turned towards Gibbs. He shrugged again and smirked, "Fine with me." He repeated.

So that's how I found myself in Gibbs' living room, with my head in Tony's lap, Ziva's head on my stomach, Abby sprawled over my legs, McGee stretched out next to us on the ground, Gibbs and Ducky were on the couch, and Jimmy was reclined in a chair.

All of our attention was on Gibbs' TV, where John Wayne's 'Mclintock' played. Tony had suggested a John Wayne marathon, and we had all agreed readily.

Abby had brought candy galore, as well as caffeine galore, Ducky had brought blankets, Ziva brought boxes of pizza, and Gibbs had popped popcorn and found more root beer.

I felt completely relaxed now, listening to Tony spout facts about John Wayne, like how his real name Marion Robert Morrison, and listening to Gibbs' silent laugh versus Abby's loud one.

Ducky kept up a steady commentary about how certain things reminded him of his youth, and Ziva commented on the guns of the era. McGee, Jimmy, and I just watched the movie, and offered the occasional comment.

I smiled at the warmth surrounding me. And it wasn't just the blanket Abby and Tony had wrapped me up in. It was much, much more than that. It was a familial sort of warmth.

Home. It felt like Home.

I found myself thanking that would be robber in the coffee shop. Because without him, I wouldn't have gotten Gibbs' attention, and I wouldn't have met these wonderful people.

I'd have to start writing to mom again. She'd love to meet Gibbs, even if she didn't like the government.

Tony's hand began running through my hair, and when I glanced up at him, I found his attention glued to the TV. He probably wasn't even aware of what he was doing. But I found it comforting, so I didn't comment on it.

When McGee got up to change the movie to 'El Dorado' I felt my eyes begin to close. I was warm, I was happy, and I was safe. What more could I want?

 **Okay guys. That wraps up Black Rose. Thank you for reading thus far. Now then, I have a request. I've been asked if I wanted to make a series out of this story, and I would love to. However, that being said, I need ideas. So, what I need you guys to do is to go down into the comments, and tell me what ideas you've got for the next story. Even if it would just be a fluff shot, like Morgan taking Kiley to a basketball game, Ducky staging a musical** **performance** **with Kiley, or Abby taking Kiley to Coney Island. I need ideas, and would love to hear your suggestions!**

 **Thanks again for staying for the ride!**

 **ST**


	24. Caged Rose

Hello guys! Thanks again for making it all the way to the end of this story. Now, for any of you who adored it, I have put up another one in this series called 'Caged Rose'. So go look for it, and I hope you enjoy it!

ST


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